The Knight's Lover
by californiatart
Summary: 18th Century, Pirate AU. A knight save the queen's life and he wanted her servant as his prize. Of a pirate himself known as "a man who had lived a thousand lies", as he falls deeper and deeper into his blinded love with the servant, he eventually had long forgotten of his true identity.
1. Bullfighting Tournament

An afternoon light blinded the blue sky into a white space, when the intense blur creased, a humongous dome was unmasked. When the giant gate in front of the podium opens, loud noises of cheers and applauses could be heard inside the grand space. The connected stone seats are filled with adults, children, and the elderly alike. The crowd burst into an eruption of standing ovation when Infanta Maria Antonia Ferdinanda of Spain appears behind the back entrance.

The queen gracefully walk down the steps with her head held high to her special space set up against the podium front. Her extravagant vanilla colored gown stood apart from the ocean of blacks belonging to her servants and guards. There was an Italian boy holding an umbrella over the queen's head to protect her from the intense sunlight. Every once in a while, the servant would misses his steps, stumbling a bit under the impacts. Everybody was too occupied with sightseeing to notice his awkward walk except for the amused Spanish knight trailing behind Infanta Maria Antonia Ferdinanda's person. The queen sits on her throne and begins to observe her surroundings.

At the bottom floor of the stone podium is the arena reserve only for the fighters and the bulls. A huge gate on the right creaked open, shadows of people begin stepping out of the dark pathway. As the bright light hits the group of people, it reveals men in flashy, elaborate clothes. They all wore the same white with gold designs uniform to represent their love and royalty for their country. On their shoulder are magenta cloaks as a symbol of bravery in the battle against the bull, which is a representation of evil and chaos. The slaying of the tauroctony is an important iconic act of Mithras, which was forever remembered in the mithraem where the brave soldiers of Spain were stationed. Two boys were spotted carrying a Spanish flag, trailing behind the group of dashing young men. All the way at the end, are the matadores supporters, playing the Spanish anthem to cheers the strong fighters on.

A gun shoot was heard inside the podium, signaling the start of the tournament. Three matadores begin gracefully swinging their red cloaks, each of which fights two male bulls. The matadors have six assistants by their side, which composed of two picadores on their horses, three banderilleros-whom the matadors address as toreros and a mozo de espadas.

"Matadores! Matadores! Fight bravely for Spain! Fight bravely for Spain!" The audience chanted, referring to the group of men inside the ring. The cheer intensified when the black bulls enters the ring.

The opening performance is the tercio de vara, that is when the matador tests the bull's fighting spirit with his cape. He begins a series of passes with his magenta cloak and carefully pin point the bull's strengths and weaknesses. Up next, a picador enters the arena on top of his horse, armed with him is a vara. The strongest and most feared bull enters the ring, he huffed arrogantly at the weak men before him. The picador stabs his spear on the bull just behind its morrillo, the animal's first bloodshed, a starting point of victory for Spain.

Scarlet.

The bull's eyes turned red with madness. He yelped in rage and begins attacking the fighters by charging his sharp horns into their white bodies. The people held their breath and quiet their cheers, this isn't good for the people of Seville; evil have broke loose. They are loosing their men, their life, their spirit. When the mad animal eyes landed on the podium front where the queen sat, he stomp his foot several times against the dirt ground and headed for her. Infanta Maria Antonia Ferdinanda shrieked in a terrified voice, her guards gather around her to protect their beloved highness. It was futile as the bull was too powerful; evil have overtaken the goodness and virtue of the land. There shall be nothing but misfortunes and innocence lifes loss for the upcoming year for Spain.

A man step forward.

His green eyes come in contact with the bull's crimson orbs. He borrows a matador's cape and begins tempting the animal with his moving form.

"¡Olé!¡Olé!" The knight chanted playfully, he smirked when the bull leveled his head against the ground and charge its body into his magenta cloak. The audience broke out in a huge outcries of amazement and disbelief, mesmerized by the Spanish knight's beautiful dance. The man unsheathed his sword by his hips and stabs the bull on its shoulders. The animal howls painfully, his anger flarred, but was weakened due to his rebellion against the bullfighters earlier.

The man manuevers his cape to attract the mad bull in a series of quirky passes, which wears the animal down greatly, thus producing a beautiful faena for the crowd around him. He held the cape especially close to his body to signal his overwhelming domination over the bull. The faena ends when he trick the bull to stand in a single straight position, and stab his sword between the animal shoulder blades and through its heart. The bull haul his heavy footsteps, and falls on top of the ground with a loud thud.

A pool of blood circle the animal's stilled lifeless form. The knight have save the queen and the people of Seville from being curse by evil. The quiet people sitting along side the podium seats stood up and cheer for the knight; they were grateful and blessed. They begins waving their white handkerchief, signaling their approval that the queen should award the brave knight for his courageous performance. The man kneel his feet before the queen to show his respect and concern for her welfare. With his eyes facing the floor, he inquires in a gentle voice, "Are you all right, my dear queen?"

"Thank you, my trusted Antonio... you may rise." The woman commanded in a soft, calm tone. The Spaniard did what he was told and stood proudly before his highness, a gentle smile formed over his lips.

"My brave knight, is there anything you would like in exchange for winning this tournament and for saving me?" She continued in a sound so kind and grateful, a gentle smile spread over her pink lips.

"Why, in fact, yes... Your highness, Infanta Maria Antonia Ferdinanda of Spain, I, Antonio Fernandez Carriedo, asks for your blessings to have this servant of yours by the name of Lovino Vargas." His speech ended with him bowing the queen for her approval.

'Wait, how did this bastard know my name?' The unenthusiastic Italian by the queen thought to himself, the curl on his head bounced side to side in irritation.

"... Eh? Are you sure my brave knight? He is only a lowly servant of mine, surely, there are other beauties here..." The queen commented in skepticism, her eyes on the man's person.

"No, thank you my beautiful queen, I only wanted this boy." Antonio replied with a bright, cheeky grin, stealing a glance at the boy standing beside Infanta Maria Antonia Ferdinanda.

"If you insist... then I shall grant you my permission. I am in debt because of your courageous act, please be expecting my visit to your home sometime in the future." Infanta Maria Antonia Ferdinanda raised her hand, a promise that her servant now belong to her savior. The Spaniard turn to the Italian boy with a wide, innocence grin. He walks over to his "prize" and carried the Italian boy bridal style. There were cheers and whistles coming from the people close to the knight. Antonio begin exiting the podium with Lovino in his arms, leaving a heap of admirers and applauses behind his back.

.

On their trip back to the knight's home, the queen's servant did not even bother to look at Antonio once. The two are now riding inside the Spaniard's luxurious cargo. It was very fancy indeed, a thing Lovino never dream of owning. The rich red blinds fold over the window looks like fine, expensive silk made by skilled tailor. The red and gold seats are so comfortable and relaxing, unlike the hard bed that Lovino used to sleep on with his younger brother, Feliciano and Grandpa Roma. When he met with a pair of emerald eyes in front of him, Lovino lips frown in annoyance.

The Italian boy glared at the irritating Spanish man and remark, "you, why did you pick me out of everybody?" The question was more of a complaint rather than a friendly request for information.

"I do not see what the problem here is. I win, I get my prize, see? So simple." The Spaniard commented, his right feet crisscross over to his left feet.

A playful smile spread over his full lips and he added, "... beside, you're such a sight to look at. Those curvy, full hips and white milky skin..." The man noted, even though the young boy dressed in such dreadful, depressing matching black top and bottom, his defiant amber eyes is what makes him so unique and interesting.

The small Italian in return glared at the cocky older male in front of him. There was a snap in his head when hearing those perverted words coming out of the damn bastard's lips. Lovino stood up, his hands fisted tightly into a ball, ready for an all-out fist fight against this man call Antonio.

"Look here, you-" The carriage's wheels stumbles on some cracks on the street, successfully knocking Lovino off his feet.

The Spanish man beneath him opens his arms wide, catching the fallen boy by his waist. Up close, the young Italian could smell cinnamon and some sort of spice scent from Antonio. The older male eyes were so sharp and fierce, as if he knows what is going on in a person's head. His tan complexion only complimented his chestnut hair and full red lips. His uniform was such a deep, rich black color, compare to Lovino washed out clothes. The gold embroidery on his uniform looks so intricate and well-made, up close, it appears that an eagle flew over his dark clothes.

"I can't wait to see what you're so proud of underneath all of these clothes..." The Spanish man whispered huskily, his hand squeeze one of the Italian's round, perky butt. Lovino blushed upon coming in contact with Antonio hand; he pushed himself away, stopping the man's lewd exploration.

The boy situated himself back in his seat, crossing his arms and decided to stay silent for the rest of the trip. The Spaniard on the other hand, smiles and rests his chin on his palm, his wandering eyes scans Lovino's lithe body up and down teasingly.

.

When the carriage's door comes undone, Lovino eyes widened. The black gate in front of him looks so huge and intimidating compare to his little body. The Spanish man walk in front of the young Italian, a friendly wave of his hand, and then gate opens slowly. There were servants in blacks and whites lining up against the pathway into his house.

"¡Sea bienvenido a casa, el maestro Antonio Fernandez Carriedo!" The servants greeted in Spanish, bowing their head one by one upon the man approaching form. Antonio grabs the boy hand and lead him toward the entrance to his beautiful home. Along the white path, there were bushes and stones structures of ancient Roman gods and goddesses. Lovino was amazed by the images passing through his curious eyes one by one. The older male opens the front door for Lovino to come in, bowing in a gentlemen-like manner. The young Italian huffed and quickly walks inside, his heart thumping in excitement to have a look inside the rich home.

Lovino eyes were dazzled in surprise and amazement. There wasn't a single speck of neither dusk nor dirt on the floor. On the ceilings are crystal chandelier lights hanging and dancing brightly with one another. The walls are filled with famous paintings of known artists and trophies. The trophies probably belongs to the Spanish bastard, what a show off. Even the ruby rug beneath the boy's feet looks so marvelous and grand, a great fit for a king. Antonio puts his hand around Lovino's shoulder and led him to the stair path on the opposite end of them. Up. Right. Left. The never-ending red stair seems getting longer and longer.

The Spanish man finally stops his energetic feet in front of a door and open the lock knob using his master-key. Smiling playfully, Antonio drag Lovino along with him and locked the door behind them with a soft 'click'.

Turning the Italian around to face his person, the Spaniard breathe softly, "hermoso..." and capture the boy pink lips. He had waited for such a long time... Lovino eyes widened upon the intimate contact with the rude man, the boy push his broad body away, and wipe his lips in disgust.

"What is wrong with you? Damn bastard!" The young boy exclaimed in a loud, obnoxious voice, breathing heavily. The older male ignores his protest and carried Lovino bridal style to his large, spacious bed. The Italian boy begins thrashing mindlessly against the man heated body.

"Let me go! Let me go!" Lovino demanded, kicking his feet against the air to emphasize his seriousness. Antonio put the boy on top of his bed and places his large hands on either side of Lovino's red face. Looking into the boy fierce brown eyes, the man captures his lips once again, thrusting his lustful tongue inside to have a sample of his essence.

"Hnn... Tasty." The man mused in between their kisses, pulling Lovino chin down and tilts his own head to the side to have a better access into the sweet tavern. Antonio's skilled tongue traces around Lovino's mouth, remembering every cracks and crevices. The defiance Italian boy thrust back into Antonio's mouth and bite his lips hard, drawing blood.

Breaking way from the boy, the Spaniard muse, "Feisty, aren't you?" and wipe the crimson off his own lips.

"You don't need these." Antonio continued, one of his hands held Lovino hands above the bed and rip the boy shirt and pants off. The small boy closes his eyes and lips shut tightly close against each other. There are little stand of tears about to erupt out of his eye sockets.

"No..." The Italian boy begged, opening his petrified orbs and stared into the man emerald ones.

"Shh... you'll love it." Antonio replied in a reassuring tone. "Dance with me. I'll stop when you're in pain." He takes a pillow and places it under Lovino head, releasing his tiny constricted hands along the way. The Spanish man gives the young boy a small peck on his lips and continues on his exploration. Antonio gave several teasing licks on the Italian white neck. He then suck on the smooth surface hungrily, leaving a red mark behind his track. Furthering his daring move, the large man take one of Lovino pink nipple and circled his playful tongue around the mound. The boy in return, arch is back slightly, beginning to experiment pleasure, moaning softly.

"You like this part to be touched?" The man stated in want, almost groan out loud upon seeing Lovino's flushed face. His right hand pinch on the other nub, biting his dark lips hungrily. After getting tired of the same spot, Antonio kiss his way down on the boy stomach, taking his time to marvel at the milky skin. Lovino panicked. His heart's contracted itself tightly against his chest. He could feel the vibrations, the pulses in his body, he wanted the knight to stop. However, the boy was too scared to utter a word of protest. His pride got the best of him. This is a first time for him, to be touched like his, to be opened up like a flower. His head begins to wobbles back and forth, and then spins out of control.

Everything before the young Italian boy was consumed by a black mask. Unconsciousness got to him.

.

"How are things going?" The man greeted, his tone was calm and welcoming. The window creep opens, revealing a large shadow of a person; his red eyes wander and lurk inside the darkness.

"Kapitän, it won't be long before... well, you know." The voice hinted jokingly, Antonio should know the answer all ready. What a joker.

"Aha, how clumsy of me. I must be getting old." Antonio stated knowingly, licking his red lips. There was a strong wind current through the open window, the light in the candle flicker on and off.

"He's a cutie, isn't he?" The Spaniard mused, stroking Lovino hair affectionately and take a whiff off of the pipe in his hand. The white smoke coming out of his mouth created a miasma around the man, hiding his secrets and contemptuous.

"Kesesese! He is! You mind if I have a taste of that?" The man standing by the window chuckled quietly, the dim light in the room created a dark shadow over his playful crimson eyes.

"No way, he's mine." Antonio bit back, smirking in triumph that he claimed the Italian before his best mate could.

When the window closes on the trio inside the room, the space between the glass walls reveals Antonio's cocky smile as the red-eyed man presented him a map of Infanta Maria Antonia Ferdinanda's palace.

.

A ray of sunlight peaked through the small crack of the window, hitting on the sleeping Italian boy's face on the bed. Lovino creep his eyes opens, the glaring light on him intensified. He raises his hand and tries to wipe the night's sleepiness away from his eyes. When the blur of darkness in front of Lovino fades, his breath was almost taken away. The room was more spacious than Lovino first anticipated now that he is inside. The walls were adorned with intrigued designs of stone floral and leaves. In the middle is a glass table, the delicate plates on top are filled with rich, mouth-watering foods and fruits. There was a chimney to the right, the fire from the day before still lingered inside. On the left were one of Bartolomé Esteban Murillo's famous painting, La Inmaculada concepción de los Venerables o de Soult. Lovino wanted to get up to touch the painting to see if it's real or not.

'Is that Spanish bastard really just a knight?' Lovino wondered, his eyes still dazzled in amazement at the grand bedroom belonged to his new master.

_Rustle._

In wonders, Lovino shift his body around to see what is there behind his back, he is face with the Spaniard undressing himself. The young brunette blushes and tries to avert his attention elsewhere. His chestnut eyes betrayed him as they trails over the knight's body. Lovino looks down on his scrawny body and compares it to the built man in front of him… _'The world is so unfair,'_ is the only thing he could think of the moment. The boy quietly gasps when the tall man pulls his pants down, revealing more of his toned, and scrupled body. At this point, Lovino's face was as red as a tomato thanks to Antonio.

"You like what you see?" The Spaniard said out loud, enough to snap the Italian out of his thought. The boy, in return, huffed defiantly at Antonio and turns his back against him. Antonio smirked and hummed a tune; continue undressing himself out of his sleep clothes. He parted his lips and words begin to forms.

"… If you love me, if sighs…

Sol for me, gentle shepherd

I dolor de 'your martyrs

I delight of your love

But if you think insole

I owe you Riamar

Pastorello, you are subject

Easily t'ingannar

Beautiful purple rose

Today Silvia choose

Under the guise of the plug

Doman then despise

But the men on board

For me it does not follow…

Not because I like the lily...

… The other flowers sprezzerò…."

Antonio smile gently when the smoothing melody ended. "It's a beautiful song isn't?" The Spaniard said, more to himself than the Italian resting on his bed. He recalled back a time long ago, when he and his friends would disguised as servers and spectators in a famous Italian theater. The song sung by a beautiful songstress was embedded in his mind, right before he signal his men to attacks and robbed the valuables inside the magnificent building.

He walk over to a door to the left, when he opens it, golden extravagant clothes reveals in the light. There was a special place reserved for Lovino, as if Antonio knew beforehand that the Italian boy will belong to him one way or another. He shut the closet door close and walks over to his bed, where his new lover pretends to be in a deep slumber.

"Here are some clothes for you, Lovino. Dress yourself, cabeza soñolienta, I know you're awake..." The man whispered into the boy's ear and kisses the outer shell affectionately. The brunette grunt and begin to struggles, trying to loosen the damn bastard away from him. As if the older male understood, he slowly separates himself away from Lovino. The Italian got up with an annoyed expression and begin dressing himself in the clothes Antonio gave him. He had no other choice, he felt so uncomfortable at the way the Spanish man looks at him and, another thing is, he hated being naked. Unlike his younger brother, Feliciano, who practically parades himself everywhere without any clothes on.

Antonio gives the young boy a small smile and returns back to dressing his unclothed state. Not too far away from his bed, is a gold clothes hanger filled with the necessities for the man to dressed himself in. He takes a black buttoned-up shirt hanged from one of the branches and secured his nude form with it. Next, is the pure white tight pants that Antonio dreaded to put on every morning. Then, he drapes a silk navy vest over his shirt. Finally, comes the detailed scarlet outer jacket given to him by the queen herself when he rescued her from a band of weak, wannabe thugs. All the way at the hanger's top is a matching red hat to go along with his uniform. Beside the hanger, on the floor, is the oxford black shoes neatly cleansed and polished by one of his servants. When Antonio usual routine is over, he smile warmly and turns to check on Lovino. The Italian stood by the window far away from Antonio, crises-crossing his arms stubbornly and is already done dressing himself. What a shame… Antonio was going to help him, too.

"I'm going to attend a meeting in the queen's palace... Where is my farewell kiss, mi amor?" Antonio inquired; he smirked when a horrified look spread throughout the Italian pretty flushed face.

"No way, va' al diavolo." The boy bit back harshly, cussing in Italian, his native language.

"Wait until Infanta Maria Antonia Ferdinanda hears about how much of a bad person you've been, Lovino..." The Spanish man whispered teasingly in that deep voice of his, he smirked upon seeing the younger boy's mouth forms a big pout. He then waltz over to his bed and situated himself on top of the soft, comfortable mattress.

'... He understand Italian? Damn it.' Lovino thought to himself, an unpleasant pout formed on his lips.

"Love..." The older man signed mockingly.

With his lips a downward "V", Lovino slowly walks over to Antonio with his arms crossing defensively on top of his stomach. He stops in front of the Spanish man with a heavy grunt, averting his gaze to the side. Antonio eyes twinkled mischievously and pulls the Italian boy to sit on top of his lap. The boy glared at the amused brunette in front of him with his arms still crossed. The man's smile handsomely as he stared intensely into Lovino's eyes.

"W-what..? I swear if you do any..." The brunette's speech was cut off when Antonio gives his full lips a gentle kiss. Lovino's shoulders begin to shake under the Spaniard's bold move... _What if something like yesterday happens again...? _

Antonio's smile widened against Lovino's trembling lips. _He is just so cute. _The man slowly removes himself away from the terrified Italian and smirked. He helps the boy to stand up to the side. Antonio then walks over to the huge double-sided mirror on the opposite end of his bed. He looks at himself in the glass' reflection and straightened his uniform. Satisfied with the way he looks, the tall male smile and turn to his Italian lover.

"Until the time when we meet again, love." The Spaniard winked at Lovino and left room shortly after that.

.

A man was standing before a group of knights, in his hand is a paper containing inks in scripted words and drabbles. His posture was poor, his voice, an annoying childish squeak, he was eyesore no less. His hand rose to cover his mouth, an unsightly huff, and then he continue on with his speech.

"As you all have known, the war between Great Britain and France are at the point where there will be no peace to our land. We, as the great nation of Spain, cannot remain neutral any longer, for France, our ally, they are at the tipping point of losing their will to fight, and we must stand tall, for our own interest, for our freedom, for our people. So far, Great Britain has avowed a war against us, the kingdom of Spain, on January 4th, 1762. We cannot remain silent by this any longer, so we shall fight back with all of our might; on January 18th, 1762, our queen; Infanta Maria Antonia Ferdinanda, allotted an affirmation of war against the kingdom of Great Britain. As a whole nation, we have agreed to joint with France under the Family Compact, a secret treaty between us on August 15th, 1761… My men please lend me your ears and eyes; because of such sudden, abrupt decision… we must…"

The Spanish knight smile when he sees that some of his men manage to infiltrate Infanta Maria Luisa's palace. With his legs cross, chin resting on top of his intertwined finger, Antonio's body leans forward, pretending to be interested in what the queen's adviser said. The knight divert his eyes upward for a moment. On top of Antonio's head is the map of the world painted by him, well-structured and detailed to every last bit, surrounded by the vast ocean water.

'_This is the famous prosperous country that Francis spoken in great admiration of? Oh, if only he was here.'_The man licks his velvet crimson lips, tasting his own scent.

_Salt._

The calm ocean waves play a smoothing song in the man's head. The blazing sun taunts and burns on the cloudless sky above his dark skin. The seagulls gathered together and chirp a lullaby to the Spaniard. The dolphins were playfully swimming ahead of Antonio, greeting him with their beautiful, meaningful song.

Really, he was just sightseeing around the island until a pair of fierce chestnut eyes sparks his curiosity. The two gems were so bright, radiating with life and proud defiance, like rare Amber Stones that could only be found in the Baltic Sea.

_Fire. _

They shine and radiates like the never-ending burning sun.

Antonio could feel a fire ignite and spread thoroughly in the pit of his stomach. _Desires, wants, and needs. _

_'A little treasure hunt wouldn't hurt either,'_ the captain mused to himself, licking his red lips.

Just a year ago, or more, who knows? Antonio is quite old. He was only looking around in quiet boredom after obtaining some treasure findings from the Caribbean islands. Antonio disguised himself and his men as innocence merchants, just trading items around Seville's border. He turns his telescope to zoom in the moving picture before him.

A French man passes behind Antonio; he opens his mouth, about to acknowledge his captain. He smiles playfully, thinking about a perverted joke to wake the Spaniard out of his haze. In soundless wonderment, he looks at the direction his friend is at staring at. His smile fades and then a worried-some expression spread over his handsome face.

"Cher Antonio, there is a saying by the great poet Louys:' Il y a deux manières d'être malheureux: ou désirer ce que l'on n'a pas, ou posséder ce que l'on désirait.' Which I guess, in your language, 'There are two ways to become unhappy: to desire what you don't have or to have finally gotten what you have desired.' Why don't you indulge yourself with the beautiful women on our ship?" The French man warned his captain, only wanting what is best for his leader and friend.

"How did you know what I wanted?" The Spaniard questioned calmly and lowered the telescope down to his side. He turns to look at the French man and a wide smile spread over his dark innocence face. Everything about him glowed and radiated with contentment, but, his eyes, like a serpent, narrowed maliciously. He didn't like to be told what to do, even if it's Francis, his best left-hand mate.

"Let's have a little chat, Antonio." The Frenchman suggests, eyeing his young companion.

"Sure, mi amigo. While we are at it, let's watch the ocean waves together, Francis." The Spanish man agreed, he turns his face to observe the beautiful scenery before him. Francis then told the captain about Infanta Maria Antonia Ferdinanda's power, of which, he assumed, only excites Antonio even further.

"Antonio, I am sure you have heard of the Spanish Empire's reign in The New World, of the 'Siglo de Oro', and their Campaigns in Africa?" The Frenchman questioned; his blue eyes on the infinite sea before him.

"I am afraid not, I am an unschooled barbarian after all." Antonio remarked sarcastically while counting the waves.

Francis looks at his in skepticism and then discusses with his captain of the Spanish Empire, its involvement in the many countries around the world, about the power struggles between Spain, France, and Britain, its influential navel's power at sea, and then the royal army, everything. Only a small portions of the Spanish's power at sea were made publically, the rest, was kept a hushed secret or simply brushed and blurred over. A moment of silent passed by, the blonde man glances at his usual talkative friend, wondering what is on his mind. A little bit of his sharp, white teeth was shown in between his parted dark lips. Antonio was smiling. A smile of greed, of want, of limitless lust for more. Of strenuous, fearless, dominance power. Francis almost shutter under the sheer pressure of such simple gesture coming from the Spanish man.

The Frenchman smiled, wanting to spoil and please his best friend. "I'm waiting for your order, capitaine."

"Now, you're talking my language, mi amigo." The Spaniard remarked in an amused voice.

.

Three hours passed.

The striking amber eyed Italian was enjoying the afternoon with another boy who just looks like him and a girl. Even though there was a huge frown over his pouty pink lips, Antonio could felt the happiness bounce off of him. The young girl came over, giggling as she took off with the taller boy's shirt. Her long, luscious golden hair dance around in synch and compliment perfectly with the Italian's brunette locks.

After a while of frolicking, the small boy excused himself, leaving the older Italian with the girl alone.

"Ah... how beautiful." Antonio asserted as he watched the love birds joining their hands together in the sunset, his jade eyes deepened with envy. Then, he did just what he wanted, like a bararian he is. He got the girl to open her pretty legs for him in just three days. He soiled her virgin body and infected his filth all over her tiny, fragile body. She told the Italian of her little secret affair with 'an older man' and then, in a flash, she was gone without a hair left. Just like the story of the stunning Melusina, a fairy who is cursed to become a powerless mermaid once a week. Once her husband sees her ugly, slimy, scaly form, she becomes afraid and fearful. She then dives into the ocean, hiding in shame, and thus, ending their love.

When the meeting in the queen's palace ended, Antonio decided to walk through the market on the way home to look for a gift for Lovino. He plays with his long hair braid, fantasizing about what games he should play with the ravishing boy on his bed.

Upon seeing the knight's proud form, the people cheer and welcomed him as one of their own; their blood and flesh. The people sing and recalled the times when the knight protected the town from raids by the English pirates and donates a good amount of his fortune to re-build their homes.

Every corner the Spanish man turns, there were applauses of, "Thank you so much, oh brave knight, Antonio Fernandez Carriedo!" shrove against his face. Nevertheless, the man's polite smile did not disappear against his blood-red lips during those interruptions.

A woman walks by the Spaniard and greets, "Have a good day, Sir Carriedo!" She gathered up her courage to make eye-contact with the knight but her youthful face is as red as roses.

"You have a wonderful day yourself, madam." Antonio took off his hat and slightly bows his head in a gentleman-like manner. She giggled and rushes off away from the handsome man as quickly as possible to hide her excitement.

Antonio finally arrived at his destination. His smile widens when the florist shown him the most beautiful flowers. Lilies, in vibrant amber color, of course, incomparable to the adorable, defiant Lovino. Antonio laughs lightheartedly and decided to buy the bouquet to give to his little enticing flower back in his mansion.

.

Lovino lies on the bed, staring intensely at the bed's ceiling head. He got up on his feet, tastes some colorful sweets on the table, and then returns to the bed. He had been repeating the same routine for the past two and a half hours.

He walks over to the huge glass window, swings it opens wide, and then his feet lands on the balcony. A gentle gush of wind caress against Lovino's face. He closes his eyes when he heard soft whistles from the green leaves.

_'How are Feliciano and Grandpa Roma…' _The young Italian wondered to himself, he becomes a worry ward when it comes to his stupid little brother and forgetful grandfather.

Lovino leans against the stone eagle and begin idly stares at the bed inside the spacious room. Looking at the silk blinds, the boy flashes back to what happens yesterday. His cheeks blushes a pretty flamingo pink, he was beyond embarrassed and humiliated.

_How dare that Spanish bastard touches his person and violate his pride as a male like that?_

Suddenly, an idea comes to him. He rushes back inside the knight's room and hurriedly torn off the delicate silk blinds. Next, Lovino connects the ends to together, making a tight knot. The Italian stood up, flew back to outside, and frantically tied the blinds against the stone post next to the eagle statue.

He turns to his back and declares, "Arrivederci, dear knight! Please don't come looking for me." The brunette smirks and then dive out of the open patio, using the long connected blinds as a handicap.

_Fly. _

_Become one with the wind_.

.

When the sun could no longer withstand standing so high and mighty, he lowered himself over the horizon, giving away as much of his dim light left before he settled in for the night. The older Italian was alone, a ball he sat, and in a trance as he look at the distant light. He had been in one place for almost three hours now. The girl that he had been spotting with lately, just turn into dust; forgotten bubbles. The boy turns to the right, the place where the girl always sat with him, now is just a pile of ashy, dry sand. He took in a deep inhale and signed. His eyebrows then buried together, his face, a deep frown displaying mixed emotions; of grief, of antagonism, of exasperation.

Antonio bite the tip of his lower lips, he turns the telescope handle to get a closer look at that delightful aloneness the boy exhibit. His breath was almost in awe, he wanted to lift the throbbing agony and seclusion from the Italian's expression. But. When? Why? How?... how will their first meeting play out? Will it just be like the fairy tale 'El León Herido'? Where there is a prince who is cursed to become a lion for eternity, only to have a lovely maiden save him from being one of the wretched? Or will the Spaniard be feared and detested like the tyrant king in 'El Malvado Rey'?... Will they have a 'happily-ever-after' story of their own, despite their taboo boundary between a man born at sea and a servant of the great Infanta Maria Antonia Ferdinanda of Spain? Antonio laughs sat his innocence curiosity; of course, they will be with one another. Soon._ Very_ soon.

_Oh, silly me. _

The boy will become his. What damsel in distress wouldn't want their heart be stolen by the most feared man in the world?

The Italian from afar sniffed and muffed his own cried as the light overshadow by the dark night. He covers his eyes, terrified of the thought that somebody would see such a strong boy cry. _Like a broken doll. _Antonio could felt his own heart fluttered, butterflies of excitement building in his stomach. The boy needs someone there to protect him from harm, when he is nothing but a shattered young man, when he is just a tiny, little lone star sitting on the blue sky, what he need is a light; a shadow; a _knight_.

.

"Hey there, pretty boy, do you want to have a little chat with big sister here?" The woman requested, twirling her white umbrella in her hands in a girlish way. Her dress is a pretty crimson color, a color of lust and sinful desires, fluttered in the wind current; her figure blocked the sunlight away from the Italian. Her face, caked in white powder and dark eye stage make-up, smiled cheekily as she greeted the appealing looking young man in front of her.

The small brunette ignored her and turns the other way, repulsed and offended, "Go away; I'm not interested in hags." Why does he_ always_ attract perverts and freaks?

"Why you..." The older woman's glare burn a hole into Lovino's. She puffed her chest tall and shrove the Italian out of her way. Lovino snickered at her retreating form and continue on his way.

Lovino walks down the street of the busy town, trying to blend in and navigate his way through by quietly concealing and engaging himself in normal, unnoticeable activities. _He is a regular pedestrian; a visiting tourist; a bystander. He is normal._ Lovino suddenly felt a rush of adrenaline surging inside him. He is own person, a wanted runaway, a freed man.

The people on the other hand, walks passed the young Italian without a care or a little curious why a boy is out on the street alone. _The Italian signed_. Of course, Lovino is also being used to be ignored and forgotten about because of his more charming and noticeable little brother, Feliciano. Words of acknowledgement such as, _"Where is Feliciano today?", "How is little Feli doing, older brother?", "Will your young brother come here tomorrow?"_, did nothing but ignite his annoyance. At one point, Lovino ignored the sellers and artists on the sideline and head straight north to his rundown shack. Lovino's footsteps become faster, more frantic, as he remembered the roadway leading to his welcoming home.

A flashback sparks in the boy's head.

Feliciano smiles brightly and waves a "Benvenuti a casa, big brother!" to the older Italian walking through the wooden gate. The young brother was watering the little garden that he, Lovino, and Grandpa Roma raised. His old grandfather was beside Feliciano, tending the new plants and smiled at his approaching form. The trio then gathered together and pitches in how much they make that day. If they had more than enough, they would walk to the market together and buy the things they needed to make pasta. During dinner, Feliciano would cook the pasta in the kitchen; grandpa would take out the dishes and place them on the table for the tired Italian brother. When their meal ended, Lovino helps out by cleaning up the dirty dishes. Lovino absentmindedly smiled on the inside, he treasure and value the times that he had with Feliciano and Grandpa Roma.

A sharp turn to the left.

Lovino gulped, he always hated walking to this dark alley to his home. The crumpled stonewalls, the black cats mewing inside the shady holes, the dripping water; a perfect set for a murder scene in one of those crazy Spanish theater. A crack started the Italian, he held his shoulder high, attentive and cautious. Halfway through the gloomy passage, Lovino hesitated; it feels like someone is watching his every move, every step, and every breath.

Exhale.

Inhale.

Exhale.

There were tiny droplets of sweats threatened to spill over his temple. Almost there. Just a turn to the right. Before his eyes, is a group of men sitting on the ground; they were playing cards and laughing with one another. A heavy scent of smoke in the air floats around them. The Italian looks down on the ground, pretend interest in his rapid moving feet. His body tensed up, stomach tightened, he could felt the heat, the tension, the dangerous aura these men possessed. The brunette held his breath in once he is near them, his airway constricted. A man with dark green eyes stared at Lovino as he took each quiet, ghostly step.

In Spanish, the strong, strange accent of his manage to cut in, he greets, "Hey, boy, where are your manners?" His bushy eyebrow clashed together, a hazardous tone, he flickers his short knife in his hand. Back and forth. Back and forth. He stood up, dusts his shirt and begins walking toward the Italian with those intense eyes. Lovino froze, his eyes stilled and feared showed, his breath was shallow and raspy; a needle stuck in his throat.

The short man's hands rest calmly behind his back as he walk up to the Italian boy. He turns over quickly; his nose almost touches with Lovino's. His breath sticks of alcohol and that revolting scent of tobacco smoke.

With his smiling green eyes, he asks, "Got money on you, boy?" He was studying the Italian carefully, searching for signs of weakness, licking his scarlet lips as he felt the fear emitted off of Lovino. The boy averts his gaze and shook his head, "No, sir, I don't." the fire in his amber eyes never once weakened. The man's eyes laughs at that burning insolence, he wanted to break it,_ bad_.

"I like your eyes," The man complimented, smiling still, "I want them. They probably worth a fortune." He then circled around the Italian boy, studying Lovino with a strange look in his green eyes.

"It is such a waste since you're a gem. You want to have a little fun time with me before I…?" He winked at Lovino, implying something greater, more sinister. His accent was so heavy and thick; nevertheless, the Italian could understand his words. Words of a danger; words that threatened his own existence. Lovino's eyes were wide and white; he was scare, terrified, his mad beating heart screech loudly in his ears. His erratic breathing were worst of all, it was so loud and out of rhythm.

_Run._

A voice told Lovino to run as fast as he could. The boy listens, without a second thought, he run, as fast as a wild steed. His eyes looked straight ahead, his beating heart thumps like a running engine. He ran passed the fractured stone walls filled with green leaves, passes the watchful glowing eyes of the cats, and then passes the dripping water drums. Almost there, just a little more until the sun light diminish these demons of the dark behind him. A noise broke loose. The unpleasant noise of a fallen being. It was Lovino, he was falling, his face crashed against the wet stone floor beneath him. His eyes expand to an impossible length, a tear exposed, betraying his male's vanity. Blood was leaving his body; his face was deeply scarred, his right arm, a fractured mess. Using as much strength as he could mustered, he uses his left land to reel his body upward. He glances at his back; the green eyed man was leading his men toward Lovino with murderous intention, smirking and chatting something about Lovino's amber orbs. Knifes and swords, already sharpened and sheen luminously in the darkness behind him.

He will get raped, and then be killed off here, a perfect murder crime in this isolated dark corner of the town. Feeling lightheaded, in front of his eyes is a white haze. A blur of emotions runs over him, scared of the men in the darkness, petrified of his inevitable death, sadness because he didn't get return home to see Feliciano and Grandpa Roma, loneliness because nobody will mourn for an unlikeable, unnoticeable boy like him. Before giving in to his unconsciousness, a vision of the damned Spanish knight's form stood before him. _Oh great_, he's seeing things now. _Stupid flashbacks before death._ Antonio appears to be shielding those revolting bastards away from him. His knees bend, a hand over his sword's handle, from behind, Antonio looks so bold and courageous with his smooth, elegant form. Lovino's vision felt abruptly to blackness. A wave of relieve washes over his sleeping face.

_Thud._

Antonio walks over to where the Italian boy felt unconscious. He lifts Lovino up softly, afraid to snapped the boy out of his slumber, lovingly so, in a bridal style. The Spaniard's heart thumps, in excitement, since he always wanted to do this with the small boy. _A sleeping beauty saved by a brave knight_.

Antonio turns to face the group of men. "Leave us in peace, _piratear_." Said the knight, emphasizing the word 'pirate' in Spanish, his face shown dead seriousness, his cold emerald eyes darkened solemnly. A deadly color. The group of men stops and stared at the knight with an odd expression. The dreadful scenery around them stop, a dull color stained over the people, with the knight and the man left alone. The air was dense, tension running high. Antonio's emerald eyes clattered against the man's lucid green orbs.

Hushed.

A voice broke the soundless silent.

"Really, Antonio?" The man rolled his eyes, Antonio and his sarcasm is getting way too old for him to handle.

"Arthur, please don't scare him like that, again." The Spanish man remarks, his eyes gleamed with playfulness, resisting the urge to burst into laughter with his dear old joker friend. The colors returns back to the background, the green leaves, the cats, the water, and the people around Antonio and the man begin moving again. Antonio leans down and kisses Lovino's forehead.

"Ha, sorry, mate; I got carried away since he looks so weak and vulnerable. But, do not worry, Spaniard, I don't swing that way." The British man replied, he held up his sharp knife and licks it like a delightful sweet. A pitiful smirk cascade over his cheeky lips.

_Poor Antonio._

_._

As Antonio walk toward his home in the sunset, the light above cast a glow around Lovino. _Like a fallen angel. _In his head, be pondered how to punish the insolent boy, scowl him? Tied him up? Spank him? Antonio stops as soon as Lovino stirred in his arms, his face shown an attractive scowl. The knight's eyes chuckled blithely; he can't stay mad at the Italian for so long. He smiled and begins singing that Italian song that left him breathless, "… If you love me, if sighs, sol for me, gentle shepherd, I dolor de 'your martyrs, I delight of your love…"

"Have you learned your lesson yet, Lovino…?" The Spaniard trailed off, smiling cheekily, "Little boys shouldn't run away because strangers will do mean things to them."

_Because you're too cute._

He continued on that beautiful song, watching the orange, red, and yellow colors above him, "For me it does not follow, not because I like the lily, the other flowers sprezzerò…."

'_How romantic.' _The man thought to himself, escalated, anticipation building inside his stomach.

"Tomorrow, mi amor, we will dine under this lovely sky." The knight declared, watching Lovino's passive, unresponsive face.

.

Rustled, ripped, teared. Lovino woke up, interrupted by the unusual noises around him. It was hard to interpret what is happening before him, foggy and misty, but strangely warm and comforting. He rubbed the sleepiness away from his vision and slowly gets up from the comfy cushion beneath him. Lovino alarmed, he was naked, like a newborn, arms and face covered in white bandages. The smell of freshly grind herb next to him, and then…

_Green eyes._

"What are you doing, voi bastardi?!" The Italian yelped, covering his body with his freed hands. Antonio halts what he is doing, and then tilt his head to look into Lovino's eyes, concern shown on his face.

"I'm bandaging you, love." Antonio winked at Lovino and laughs in that infuriating, attractive, deviant laugh of his. Lovino's face revealed disgusts as he scoots far back away, until the bed's headboard touches his back. _What else did he do besides bandaging me…?_

Antonio's hand signaled the Italian to come, but the boy never once mustered away from his spot. "Come here, Lovino. Look, the wounds started bleeding again." Antonio pointed out, his hand on his own face for extra emphasizes. Lovino huffed and silently return toward the troubled knight. Antonio takes the bandage next to him and begins rolling the white sheet over the Italian's unattractive, bleeding face.

"… Thanks…" Lovino mumbled under his breath, inaudibly so. He could felt his cheeks heat up under the Spaniard's tender touches. His heart begins beating more erratic than normal, but, this time, it's different than the encounter with the band of men he meets earlier. 'It's just the heat,' the boy blamed. Antonio smiled and ruffled the Italian's head, and then he gently pushes Lovino down to a comfortable position. He pulls the blanket over Lovino's body, making sure to leave his body unexposed to the cold wind inside the room. The knight leans down and kisses Lovino's forehead affectionately, lovingly.

Antonio grinned, his green eyes smoldered in the darkness.

"Sleep, pajarito. It's been a long day for you."

* * *

The song used in this chapter:

Pergolesi, Alessandro Parisotti - Se tu m'ami

_**Author's Note**_: ¡Hola, amigos! I hope you like this chapter!

On a side note, my dear friend and editor, silver Alida told me mention to my readers that Antonio was originally a "Yandere" (someone who have a dark moments and their personalities are sometimes twists and distorts, i.e.: Russia, Belarus). It was never shown by Himaruya Hidekazu himself in the manga, so the rumors were dismissed. On the other hand, Hima-papa did used to have something like this written on his website. How Antonio was a "two-faced" character and the way he treated other countries was the opposite of how he'd shown Lovino. So, I thought it will be fun to write about that unique characteristic of his. :)

A small little fact: Antonio did show a glimpse of his dark side in the April Fools comic strip in 2011.


	2. Amber Lilies

"Hey, do you believe in the old English saying 'love at first sight', Gilbert, Francis?" Antonio mused, sitting on his chair and, in his hand, a glass full of Chateau Margaux from France. The calm rhythmic waves lulled the cabin back and forth. The light in the wooden ceiling head was dim and low, creating a calm and serene atmosphere.

Red eyes perked up at the outlandish question from his eccentric friend. "No. Lust, maybe, but 'love', from a first meeting, from just a glance? What are you, Romeo?"

"Well, truly, I do, for many times actually, I'm not surprise if it reached a thousand times already." The French man next to Gilbert revealed, a deviant smile spread over his lips.

"This is rather out of character, but, I do believe in it. I believe that it exists, but, only happen to a few individuals, though, I cannot deter if that is a jinx from the devil or an unseen blessing from an angel. Deep down, you know it is right regardless of the circumstances, when you look at them; your heart started thrashing and walloping recklessly." Antonio professed, looking out on the window to have a gaze that the soothing ocean waves swaying in harmony in the wind. With a gentle smile, he continue in that smooth, melody voice of his, "You make unscrupulous choices, only to shelter them from mischief and relief them of agony and unhappiness. You would want to be with them, constantly, until the unavoidable death, shall the two beating hearts stop loving, yearning for each other." He traces his callous fingers through his long, dark locks, and takes a sip of the wine in his hand.

There was a lifeless silence inside the room; Gilbert was the first to break the tranquility, "… Antonio, what had gotten to you, mate? You want me to bring in the slaves down the deck?"

"Gil, let him be, love is a beautiful thing." Francis rests his hand on top of Gilbert's shoulder, stopping him; holding him back.

"I do not blamed you for your sudden outburst though, mi amigos, for I am damned from the gods of such a thing. My heart told me it is love that I have fallen in." Said Antonio, his words, true and promising.

There was a ghostlike expression daunted over Gilbert's face, disconcerted, as he stares at Antonio, and then with a horrified look, he remark, "What the fuck, Antonio?"

"… Francis! We need to get him more Margaux, and a barrel of Pilsner, until he forgets about all of these crazy shits that are going through his head!" Gilbert then ran outside and brings in two barrels of wine and beer he had promised, and then drowns Antonio in them. Their night was long and tales from the Seven Seas are exchanged and articulated between the three men. The entire time, however, Antonio had his mind fixed on the amber orbs he founded on the shore of Spain's land. _Exquisite pained expression and eyes that told a thousand words._

The following day, Gilbert and Antonio was chitchat and jesting with each other like nothing had occurred last night. Arms in arms, shoulders in shoulders, as they carol and strategically plan out what they are going to do. Gilbert, with a bottle of Pilsner in his hand, jump on top of an empty water barrel and whistled loudly. "My mates! Come and listen to The Great Gilbert here, I have an urgent message!"

The men on board stop at what they're doing and walk over to their proud, arrogance leader. With a boisterous sound, the red eyed man cleared his throat and looks straight before him, "Men! Tonight, when the sun set, we are going to inflame the town known as Seville on fire, and then we will kill, and kill, and kill!" Gilbert declares, his shipmates before him roared in blood thirst delight, eyes glowed with selfishness and their sharp blades hungry for human flesh. "Sounds easy right? Te, te, wrong! The hero, Antonio Fernandez Carriedo, will come and save the day in his dashing red cape and almighty sword. We will fight against each other in the utmost honorable battle, and then our hero will be the most respected and dreaded knight in history -if- he does succeed in defeating the daring, courageous pirate, Gilbert, 'The Illusionist'!" The men beneath him broke out in a huge outcry, impressed by Gilbert's brilliant plan. The man smirked in triumph, "Now, we shall celebrate in the dining chamber till the time when we are innocently framed as 'villains'." The shipmen applause and then parade after their leader, the attack on Seville was forgotten about now. _Until the sun set._

"I cannot wait to meet this 'great beauty' that Antonio had spoken of." Gilbert commented, his crimson eyes burned in eagerness, passing by Francis, who was leaning against the wall. The men and Gilbert then flocked themselves into the dining hall, talking noisily, in enjoyment and pleasure.

"What happen, capitaine? What did you do to my dear Gil?" Francis enquires; his blue eyes twinkled playfully at Antonio's passing shadow.

The captain turns to look at his left-hand wingman and beamed, "Magic." He then faces his back to the man and let the wind carried on his declaration, "Love can overcome anything."

.

Morning came, the sweltering sunlight shine brightly against Lovino's face, he grunted and force his exhausted eyes opens. It has been approximately one week passed since the incident with the men in the dark alley. The Spaniard bastard told him his injured arm is fine, no broken bones or deep tissue harm, but he still has to be careful of his bruised face. Lovino cringed, the memory of the green eyed man and his remark sill freshly imprinted in his mind. "… _You want to have a little fun time with me before I…?"_ Lovino closes his eyes, bite his lips, and duck under the cover.

The door creaked opens, Antonio's eyes smiled brilliantly and walk over to the hiding boy on his bed, carrying a tray containing frothy milk and _bollos_ with him. He settled himself next to Lovino, flip opens the bed's cover, and out from the darkness is the Italian's grouchy face pretending to be stilled asleep. The knight grinned knowingly and whispers tenderly into the boy's ears, "Amor, wake up or I will kiss you." Lovino's shocked orbs flew open abruptly, terrified of the thought that the Spaniard will keep his words.

A brash murmur manages to escape the boy's part lips, "No…" His heart beats deafeningly in his ears. When he heard Antonio's chuckled, Lovino look at the knight; he was exasperated. In the knight's lap, is a tray of unappealing looking food, a Spain's morning "meal".

"Have some, Lovino." Antonio chirped, his hand softly pressed a bollo against the Italian's lips.

"I'm not hungry." The boy stated stalely, dismissing Antonio with a wave of his hand, and then begin looking at the glass window behind the knight. When Antonio wore a solemn expression over his usual sunny façade, Lovino's face grew pale, immediately regret his impolite gesture.

"Wait… I didn't mean…" The Italian tried to apologize, Antonio's liveliness oddly remind him of his joyful young brother, Feliciano. And damn it, he sure knew how to incite Lovino's temper doesn't he? The energy in the knight's eyes slowly regains its usual composure, and then he smile roguishly.

"Come, I have a surprise for you, mi amor. I bet it will cheer you up." The Spanish man winked, his fine smile enlarged, taking the boy's hand and lead him out of his bed. Lovino grunt, _I don't have a choice either way. _

Releasing Lovino's hand, Antonio held the door open for the Italian boy, with head slightly bend and hand pointed at the exit. After Lovino walked through, Antonio follow suit and passes him playfully, "Follow me."

As Lovino dwindled down the endless stairway, arms fold and aggravated, a small boy stood all the way on the bottom floor perked his interest. "Feliciano! And… Grandpa Roma?" The Italian exclaimed, stunned and dumbfounded. He hastily picks up his pace, dodges Antonio's person, and journey down to the stair to reunite with his brother and grandpa. Feliciano laughs and then run to hug his big brother, Grandpa Roma follow suite afterward. How did his senseless brother and scatterbrained grandfather know of this dreadful place?... Unless…

"How…?" Lovino separate himself from his family, turned around, and gawked at the knight, lips parted, as if asking, _'How did you know them? How did they get here?... How did you know I miss them dearly?'_

"Your eyes told me you're incredibly happy right now, Lovino." The Spanish knight observed, he grinned when Lovino's face reddens to a lovely magenta color, indignantly so.

"Vino! How did you manage to meet Sir Carriedo?" Grandpa Roma questioned, not a hint of concern in his voice, in fact, he looked quite excited since he always yaps about a 'great knight in a red cape'… _wait, no, this Spanish bastard can't be him…_ Lovino panic, _shit_, how will he get himself out of this mess? Should he tell grandpa the truth? A little white lie wouldn't hurt...

"… Urn, the queen assigned me to a new master." Lovino answered awkwardly, relieved that Grandpa Roma seemed somewhat satisfied with his answer.

"Are you alright?... Did you do something wrong to Infanta Maria Antonia Ferdinanda?" The grandfather continued, a flash of uneasiness managed to make its way to his aged face.

Lovino shook his head and held in his breathe, "I am alright. And, no."

"Lovino, you must hang onto this knight like a leech, he's loaded!" Feliciano whispered into his elder brother's ear. The older Italian rolled his eyes, unsure if his brother is as innocence as he looked or the opposite.

"… Welcome, Sir Vargas and Lovino's younger brother, Feliciano, I hope that you're properly treated as special guests?" A voice broke through their conversation.

"Oh yes, your servants was so nice and helpful, Sir Carriedo!" Grandpa Roma responds; he still couldn't believe what a lucky man he is to meet the great knight that saved the town of Seville countless times.

Antonio grin courteously, a low bow of his head, "No need to be so formal, good sir, Antonio is fine."

"Mister Antonio, can we please have a look around your magnificent mansion?" Feliciano begged, his curious brown eyes excelled in incredulity at the knight's mysterious home, his childish inquisitiveness takes over.

"Why, yes, it would be my pleasure. Please follow me." Antonio retorted, his arms spread over to his left, "Let me show you the garden first, I just planted some Amber Lilies, and, oh, they are just wonderful… Come with us, Lovino, I'm sure your grandfather and young brother would love your company." The knight turn to look at the older Italian and smirked, it is an offer the boy cannot refuse by any means. Antonio, Feliciano, and Grandpa Roma got along very well and talked endlessly during their exploration around the knight's maze-like mansion. Lovino, on the other hand, is his regular grumpy self, unsociable and aloof.

The knight's backyard is even more impressive than the front pathway into his home. In the middle of the field of Amber Lilies is a pond, on top of the stilled water is a statue, 'El Giraldillo', representing faith and hope. A turn to the right is a tomato galore, red and ripped. Antonio picked up some of the sweet fruit and gave it to Grandpa Roma.

The young Italian brother was standing in front of a building. "Antonio, what is this room here?" Feliciano questioned, his head peaked on the inside and note that there are a bunch of odd and mysterious items scattered throughout the room in a cluttered mess. A green shimmer caught his eyes, Feliciano's face brightened; he wanted to find out the secret behind this door.

"Ah, I am sorry, dear Feliciano, the room is a mess and I haven't got to tidied it up as of yet. Please do not come in there, I apologized for that." Antonio replied, pulling on the young Italian's hand to lead him to a more grand, magical rooms back in his mansion. The armory, the kitchen, the baths, the playroom, the winery, the art room, everything, was clean and spotless and rich in history, as each of the rooms are revealed, Lovino couldn't help but gasped inside his head in "ooh"s and "ahh"s like Grandpa Roma and Feliciano.

Evening comes, it is time for both of Feliciano and Grandpa Roma to go back home, and Antonio's parting gifts to them are rich, silk clothes and some Spanish baked sweets. The servants load the gifts into their master's cartridge and then lead Feliciano and Grandpa Roma into the passenger's seat. "Good bye, Antonio! You are a very nice and your home is so pretty! Please invite us to come over again!" Lovino's younger brother parted, his head peaked out from the cart's window, and excitedly waving his hand at the kind knight.

Grandpa Roma joins in with Feliciano and turns to look at his eldest grandson and call, "Go easy on him, Lovino, Antonio is a very good man!" The Spanish knight's servant closes the cartridge's door after their parting, the rider uses a whip on his horse, and then the cart disappears into the sunset. Antonio smile and continue waving at the cartridge until it is gone from seeing eyes, he backed to face Lovino, declaring, "Let's have an early dinner on the balcony, Lovino, the sky reminds me of you."

.

The burning sun slowly sinks itself into the horizon, but there are still fragrances of scattered lights leftover. There was a private small glass table, already prepared and appetizing plates of sweets were place in the middle. The knight and Lovino sat on the opposite side of each other; the Italian had his eyes on the plummeting sun before him the entire time. Antonio joins in with the boy's sightseeing and tells him, "I am deeply sorry, Lovino, we were going to eat under this beautiful sky last week but you were badly injured from those vile pirates…"

"Do not concern yourself with me, oh generous knight; I will look for another escape route soon." Lovino declared, the burning amber color in his eyes glint defiantly as he faced the knight. Antonio smirks and ignores the Italian's uncouth outburst.

A clap diffused the tense air. "Sir Carriedo, your meal is ready." Antonio's butler said and then dismisses himself. The chefs, dressed in spotless white suits, rolled a table filled with closed metal plates toward Lovino and the knight. The Italian almost drools when he sees what's underneath the closed metal containers. His favorite Italian cuisine: pasta, cheese, roasts beef and vegetables, and grilled fish for the main course, and then a plate full of grapes for desert. A chef pop open a Chianti bottle and then pour the red wine into glasses for Antonio and Lovino.

"Thank you, dear Francis." Antonio stated as the chef place the dishes on top of his table.

"You're very welcome, Sir Carriedo, please summon me need anything else, I would be glad to assist." The blue eyed chef countered, he beams teasingly and winked a good bye at the knight.

_Alone at last_. "For now, let's us enjoy this wonderful feast together, mi amor." Antonio lifts up a fork-fill of the pasta and held it against Lovino's lips. The boy snort, _you know I can eat by myself_…. _why is there only one fork available anyway?_ He glared at the knight, but, when it comes to pasta, his most beloved dish, he could never refuse the incredible feeling it provokes.

"It's not poisoned." The dark haired man winked. Lovino's mouth formed a pout and then slowly opens his mouth for the intrusion of the smooth yellow noodle bathe in sweet red tomato paste.

"Isn't the evening divine, Lovino?" The knight winked at Lovino, "Ah, but it's unrivaled to you, mi amor." He rests his hand under his chin and stared at the Italian boy, who was enjoying the pasta silently. Lovino didn't like to be stared at like that, as if the knight is trying to fatten him before consuming his young, fresh meat.

'_Lovino's bold eyes sure were beautiful under this vivacious, auburn sky.' _Antonio contemplated to himself while taking a sip of the Italian wine.

The boy swallow the pieces of broken noodles in his mouth and then frowned at Antonio, his male's egotism deeply damaged, "Why do you keep calling me that?"

The knight pressed on; smile shrewdly and teases, "What, amor?"

"_That. _I don't like it, stop." Lovino stated firmly, he's not stupid, _mi amor_ in Spanish mean… _my love_. A person only uses it if they're intimately involved with another _willing _person, and he is far from that._ How should I react in times like this?_ Lovino was so used to being overlooked and disremembered; being suddenly showered with affections from a stranger is kind of off-putting. Nobody ever told him anything pleasant or romantic, so the feeling is kind of new to him. _Damn_, where is Feliciano when Lovino needed somebody to talk to?

Antonio smiles when he senses the distress, the antagonizing, and the confusion in Lovino's eyes. He got up from his chair and stood in front of the stilled emotions-disordered Italian. Lovino look at the knight and thinks to himself, _'Oh, what now…?'_ The knight raises his hand high and begins in a melodic voice;

_"O Romeo, Romeo, wherefore art thou Romeo?  
Deny thy father and refuse thy name;  
Or if thou wilt not, be but sworn my love  
And I'll no longer be a Capulet."_

He turns the other way and kneels down on one knee, right beside to Lovino, his voice got deeper, conflicting emotion plays before his emerald eyes,

_"Shall I hear more, or shall I speak at this?"_

Antonio swiftly move his body to face the boy, Lovino held his breath in, not sure how to act. The knight looms over and look straight into Lovino's amber eyes, and then his handsome face pretense hurt, misperception, madness, and acceptance:

_'Tis but thy name that is my enemy:  
Thou art thyself, though not a Montague.  
What's Montague? It is nor hand nor foot,  
Nor arm nor face, nor any other part  
Belonging to a man. O be some other name!  
What's in a name? That which we call a rose  
By any other word would smell as sweet;  
So Romeo would, were he not Romeo call'd,  
Retain that dear perfection which he owes  
Without that title. Romeo, doff thy name,  
and for thy name, which is no part of thee,  
Take all myself..."_

The knight looked deep into Lovino's amber orbs, with tender eyes and grinning handsomely, "An excerpt from one of William Shakespeare's play, the scene where the two star-crossed lovers profess their love on the balcony… do you like it…_ Lovino_?"

"How did you know all of these things, knight?" Lovino breathe, in bafflement, the way Antonio says the words is like singing, but different, which is strangely appealing to him somehow.

"I love to travel to great lands and explore the hidden unknowns; the sea is my freedom, my home, my identity. Maybe someday you and I could sail through the Atlantic Ocean to escape this land of greediness and venality?"

Lovino eyes widened, almost in a trance, under the knight's enthralling, tender hums of promises. His eyes shine with astonishment and amazement, dazzled and charmed by Antonio's words. A startled jerk, as if the boy comes back into realization, his reality, he spat harshly, "No way, I would never subdued myself to you, dannati Spagnolo." His punitive reply aside, the boy's eyes tells a different story; Antonio could tell that Lovino loved the sea, as much as he himself does.

There was a pause in the Spanish man's eyes.

"… I will wait. For eternity, until you to accept me." The knight declared in Italian, looking genuinely into the young boy's sweltering eyes. One of his hand hold onto Lovino's chair, the other on top of the glass table. Antonio's face was just inches away, his warm breath felt like feathers brush gently against Lovino's skin, his eyes, so green and buoyant in the evening dawn. The boy could feel his heartbeat perks up, teasing him with uneven rhythm. Lovino's eyebrow hunched together in a repellent fashion, his pink, thin lips forms a scowl. He hated the fact that ever since that incident with the strange men in the dark pathway, every time he sees Antonio, his heart fluttered like a maiden seeing her first love. _Damn it._ _And why is the damned bastard so close? No… don't come any closer…_

"Sir Carriedo, may I have a word with you? It is urgent." A deep voice broke the spell between Antonio and Lovino. There was a man dressed in all black standing by the pathway into the knight's room. His eyes, a deep cherry red, and that voice, Lovino heard it somewhere from before… but, couldn't recall.

"Ah, please excuse me, Lovino." The Spaniard stated, he lift himself away from the boy and then ruffles his head fondly. The man then walks over to where the butler stood and waves a final good bye to Lovino. The two men then stroll into the balcony's door, the dim candle light inside Antonio's room covers their track. The Italian lets out a relieved breathe and try to calm his furious heart.

.

The back entrance of the knight's home swayed unlocks, revealing dusky sky fully groomed in stars, the wind shrilled against Antonio's face. He smile and closes his eyes, listening to the music in the night's life, and enjoying the scent of honeydew in the cool air. Antonio turns over to Gilbert, his eyes shown displeasure, demanding an explanation from his right-hand mate, "Is something really happening, or are you playing a trick on me, Gil?"

An earnest reflection spread over his spirited red orbs, "Our ship have been discovered, Tony."

The knight continues walking; his face, peaceful and blank of sensations, "Oh?"

"What should we do, kapitän?" Said Gilbert, he raises his hand to combed his silver hair out of his face.

"We kill them, of course." Antonio responded in a composed, harmless voice.

.

East of the knight's mansion, there stood peaks and peaks of mountain terrains; the sleeping green scenery was disrupted by swift footsteps of the two men. Antonio shut his eyes close for a brief moment, trying to calm his excitement in the hunt. After traveling for an hour through the forest, he glances at Gilbert and asks, "How many?"

"Not sure, there were reports of at least two hundred men on our board right now." The red-eyed man retorted, his face looking at the direction of the mother ship ahead. Antonio licks his lips and unsheathed his sword on his hips, after a long day, he's ready for some entertainment.

When they arrived at the secret dock they had their ship concealed in, there were already tiny little in black dots of men and lighted lanterns scorches brightly in the passive night. Some of Antonio's men, beheaded and joints dislocated, were thrown off of the ship like little snowflakes.

Suddenly, a strong blast of wind hits the boat dead on.

A flash of red covers half of the ship; almost all of the men had their head rolled down from their necks. Antonio was troubled; his blade was immersed in the blood of those intruders. He takes out a handkerchief in his left pocked and wipes it clean. The knight looks over to his left side, Francis was defending the ship's front, no wonder, it had a beautiful mermaid hanged on the top prow.

The red-eyed man tittered from behind Antonio, almost a chuckle under his breath, "For eternity?"

The Spaniard turns over to face Gilbert, with a captured intruder in his left hand, his sharp emerald eyes deepened under the hazy night, "You think I could wait that long?"

Antonio turns back and angled his sword to slits the man's throat, carefully not to stain his richly clean clothes. Before delivering the final blow, the man raises his dragger and jammed it against the knight's face. Antonio blinks once at the impact and thought to himself, '_Lovino, look at what you did, you distracts me in a time like this...' _

The man's eyes widened, below his killer's skin - his flesh appears to be a burnt of some sort; hiding beneath a… _mask?_ During his final breath, he whispers, "Mil-Cara…"

Antonio was unaffected by the deep wound inflicted on his face, he lowered the unconscious man in his left arm and address him in a soft voice, "My, how inappropriate of me." A smile manage to grace his red lips, he releases his sleeping captive and begins clapping his hands together, "I give my applause to you, dear brave sir, for you, you're the first person who sees me like this." Antonio look down on his body and smile, not a single drop of blood stain his clothes. That night, his green eyes is the only thing that stands out from the ship burried in red blood.

.

"How's the new face, Antonio?" Francis inquired, as he finishes up the base using last stroke of his brush. With a finger under his chin, he lifts Antonio's face upward and check for any flaws.

"It's alright, a bit rough, but it'll do. Thank you, mi amigo." Antonio retorted; a gentle smile spread over his red lips, watching the Frenchman while he wipes away the excess paint on his face.

Francis frisky snickered, his cerulean eyes glimmered impishly. "Oh, I would absolutely love to see the Italian's face when he sees you like this, Antonio." The remark almost made Antonio laugh out loud.

"Is that so? I bet he would still love me despise the physical differences, Francis. I've trust that you've heard of the tale 'La Belle et la Bête' by Gabrielle-Suzanne Barbot de Villeneuve?" The Spanish man retorted, looking at his reflection in Francis' eyes.

Francis pauses and notes that there is a bit of exposed skin under Antonio's nose, "The peasant girl, Belle, who fell in love with a prince cursed as a beast, despite his dreadful outer appearance? Aha, oh, dear Antonio, how naïve my little Spaniard is… for you, who do not have the knowledge of the superficial complexity of a normal man." He takes a bit of powder using his brush, taps off the excess, and gently dap it around the red visible area.

"Yeah? Well, mi amigo, unfortunately for you, my little flower is not yet a man; he is simply a beautiful boy at heart." Antonio grinned, Lovino's amber eyes appears inside his head. Speaking of which, he was so cute yesterday, the way Lovino clinged on to him while lying on his bed like that…

"Oh, dear, oh, dear, my little Tony is all grown up now. What shall old brother Francis do?" The Frenchman winked at his captain, smiling at his completed work of perfection.

"You let me spread my wings, mi amigo." The Spanish man replied with a spirited grin.

.

Morning came a bit too early, the same awful beaming sunlight flashed mockingly against Lovino's closed eyes. The birds outside are a bit rowdy today, with their peaceful harmonious chirping and wings flapping madly. It is alright, though, because soon, Feliciano will come and feed them, or something. The smells of fresh wood and lilies slowly pulls Lovino into awakening, his lips falls to the side; almost a smile. His usual morning is pretty quiet and peaceful until an alarming voice of a male lulls him into a deep nightmare.

The voice tell him, "Wake up, Lovino, because I don't know what I will do next…"

His mouth twitched and then he groaned, exhausted by the day time where he had to put up with the aggravating Spaniard; his new "master". Lovino slightly pulls the bed sheet away from his body and then slowly rise from the comfortable mattress. "Morning, beautiful, today is a wondrous day, isn't it?" The Spaniard inquired, a bright smile painted on his lips. "Here, eat, you look hungry." Lovino grunt in return, and stared at what's on Antonio's laps. _Oh, great, sugary churros and torrijas, another delightful Spanish breakfast. _

Upon seeing the Spanish's almost identical smile of his little brother, Lovino signed and opens his mouth as Antonio dotingly presses a churro against his lips. The confection instantly disappears inside his mouth, too sweet for his taste, but Lovino manage to make a somewhat satisfied face with the meal given to him. Antonio looked pleased; his smile turns into a goofy grin as Lovino takes another bite of the churro.

"Lovino, let's go see _'The Star of Seville', by _Lope Felix de Vega Carpio. I shall demonstrate to you how much power his story affects you; he is simply an excellent writer." Lovino's eyes lit up when he hears those words from the Spanish man. _How did he…? Never mind, it is best not to question the knight since he is somewhat fearful of the answer._

The Italian's amber orbs say it all.

"You seemed to have liked the little skit I did yesterday, Lovino… Last week, Infanta Maria Antonia Ferdinanda invited me to attend a play in Reales Alcázares on this day today, what luck right?" Antonio quirked, he was amused by the expressions plays across the boy's cranky face. Of course, Lovino love it, since he never gotten the chance to be in a theater himself, he only hears a little bits and snippets about dramas and plays from the other servants inside the queen's palace. Lovino's eyes are unusually lighter than normal, Antonio noted.

"Ah, but first, we have to do something about your look." The knight suggests, eyeing Lovino's body. He held on the boy's hand and tenderly pulls him up from his bed. With Lovino's arm still connects to his, Antonio turns and walk toward his closet, once in front, he gracefully turns the handle to open the door. When both he and Lovino are inside, the man locks the door with a silent, ghostly _'click'_. Inside, on the left, is a mannequin dressed in an elegant gown with rhinestones in shapes of amber lilies individual hand sewn on. Antonio smirked, his thoughts drifts to wonderland where his entrancing Italian, in this lovely gown, would dance with him under the full moon all night long until the sun rise.

Lovino make a repulsed look, peering from behind the Spaniard whose obviously too caught up in his happy bubble, "Are you insane, knight? I'm not going to dress like a woman."

"Why not? I bet you would look stunning in it… or would you like be seen in public with me, hand in hand?" Antonio turns over and winked at the Italian, who cringed at the thought of people seeing him with the knight. Lovino huffed and turn the other way, mentally thinking to himself, _'As if I have a choice...'_ Taking advantage of Lovino's silence, the Spanish man quickly pulls off his shirt with ease.

"Ahh! What are you doing, you pervert?!" The boy screeched, turning to look at the knight while covering his exposed chest using both of his hands and reversed himself far away from the knight until his back touches with the door. He attempts to open the exit behind him but the knob refuse to budge.

"Now, now, we can do this the easy way or the hard way. Which do you prefer, Lovino?" Antonio implied, smirking so. Lovino try to calm down his own rapid breathing and then gradually remove his hand away from the doorknob; mentally thinking to himself, _'damned knight'_.

"Come." Said the Spanish man; waving his hand. Lovino pout and then carefully step closer to Antonio, with his hands crossed stubbornly.

Antonio laughs brilliantly as an idea pops up inside his head. He put one of his hands around Lovino's waist, the other intertwined with the boy's hand. Then, he begins humming his favorite song and all that's left is the graceful movements of his body to speak for itself. The knight made eye-contact with Lovino and proceeds to take off his pants, then he pull out the shift, cap and stockings inside the box next to the mannequin. With a smile, he begins dressing his Italian; carefully caress his skin during the right moment of his dance. Antonio raises his hand and then twist Lovino around in circle. Up next, out from the box are a white skirt and a laced-up corset. Lovino glared at the irritating knight as he put those underclothes on him, Antonio's rhythmic waltz becomes as smooth as ocean waves. And then the pocket hoop are tied on, petticoats, the jupe… as each items were put on, the Italian mood seems to get crankier, snappier, his eyes; a deep blazing red. The boy grunts as the knight secure the stomacher around his waist and upper body. Antonio seemed to enjoy his task at hand, _too much._ He turns around and takes off the silk gown resting on the mannequin and then masked over Lovino's inner dress. Antonio takes the pins on top of one of his dresser and cautiously secures the gown, pinning it in place. He wanted Lovino to wear the glass slippers underneath the gown of the mannequin, but Lovino flatly refused. _Oh well, another time then…_ Finally, a fichu covers Lovino's neckline. _Perfect. _Lovino's face is blushing red at this point from utter humiliation, like a newlywed bride. When the song in the knight's head ended, the Italian boy was in his arm; his body slightly tilted against the floor.

"You look beautiful." Antonio breathes; his green eyes on Lovino, their lips were just a breath away from each other as he stared adoringly into those amber orbs.

There was a knock outside of the room's font door, thus, snapping the knight out of his daze. He helps Lovino's up and then look over him carefully. With a broad smile, Antonio opens the closet's door and led the boy out. Then, he strides over to his front door, and out from behind the closed entry is the cook from yesterday. '_What's his name again? …Francer or something like that?' _Lovino pondered, keeping quiet to himself while standing next to the knight's bed in the uncomfortable gown.

"Ah, pardon me, am I interrupting something important… Sir Carriedo?" The man interrogated, his handsome face shown concern for the welfare of his master.

"Hello there, Francis, a bit too eager are we not?" The knight mocked playfully, he knew that Francis likes to intrude in times like this. "Nevertheless, I thank you for your time here, please come in."

"Why you are very welcome, Sir Carriedo, excuse me." The Francis winked at Antonio as he passes by his person. In the Frenchman's hand is a black box. The man smiles at the Italian boy politely and bows his head. "Cher Lovino, today, I, Francis, shall make you the most beautiful girl in the world by using my magic, but first, please have a seat!" He urged, while pointing at the chair and the table already set up in front of Antonio's double sided mirror. Lovino signed and did what he was told to do. The Spaniard walks back into his closet, gods know what he's doing. After the Italian situated himself on the chair, the Frenchman put the black box on top of the table next to the chair, and then proceeds to spread out the necessities for his art. Out from the black box are brushes, make-up paint, powder, lipstick, and other odd items.

Francis stood in front of the Italian, turns his chairs around, and then covers his lips with a long finger of his. "A magician never reveals his secrets until the finally, you'll have to wait patiently, my dear!" Lovino grunt, he looked quite displeased, but decided to stay quiet as the base coat covers his face with skilled movements from the Frenchman and his brushes. After waiting for what seems like watching paint dry forever, Francis nod in approval at his finish canvas. Last but not least, he takes out a wig in his case and place it on top of Lovino's head. With an gentle smile, the Frenchman carefully turns the chair around, Lovino almost gasp in surprise. _What the…? How is that even possible? _What's inside the mirror's reflection is a completely different person; a refined-looking girl was staring right back at him.

"What do you think, Sir Carriedo?" The Frenchman questioned his master, who was leaning against the wall; watching their magic show… '_How long have he been standing there?' _Lovino wondered silently. Antonio was already dressed in his typical elegant attires; tight black pants, a white buttoned up undershirt, and a dark crimson outer coat._ What a flashy bastard._

"Lovely. Like a gem." The knight stated in awe, he gaze at Lovino with attentive eyes. Francis dismissed himself soon afterwards, hinting something about, '_creating more masterpieces with his magic'_; what an odd man… Antonio turns to face the Italian sitting on the chair; Lovino always makes such interesting faces. "Shall we depart, darling?" He asks while holding out his right hand, distracting the boy away from his daytime daze.

If it weren't for the bulky garment on him, Lovino would have slaps away the knight's offering away. Antonio grins when their hands touched. He sensibly led Lovino out of his room, down the long ruby stairway, and when the main entrance swayed opens, a carriage already waiting for their departure. Antonio and Lovino sat themselves in the seats across from each other. On the outside, the proviso whips his mount, the carriage's wheels begins moving; heading for the grand palace, Reales Alcázares de Sevilla.

During their trip to the queen's palace, there were elegant carriages, with royalties inside, races alongside the knight's cart. Up ahead, stood a massive gate leading to the palace, women in fine silk dresses and men in sophisticated robes being greeted inside by the guards. The Spaniard's carriage stop at a spot not too far away from the gate, the proviso then opens the door for his master and Lovino.

Antonio got up from his seats and steps outside, he turns over and offer a helping hand, which the Italian behind accepts with a peevish face. "Thank you, dear Roderich." The knight said toward his Austrian proviso after Lovino's person was next to him.

"You are very welcomed, Sir Carriedo. I will guide the carriage there." The proviso pointed at a spot to the right where the other carriages gathered in a neat bundle. "I shall be waiting for you and Sir Lovino. Please enjoy your time inside the palace." He then get back into his seat at the front and directed his steed to wheeled the knight's carriage to the place he mentioned earlier.

Antonio smile and place one of Lovino's hand into the gap in his right hand, then, the Italian's other hand intertwined from the outside in. "Hang on to me, darling, I don't want you to get stolen away from me." The boy makes an irritable expression at the knight, but stayed still since he doesn't know what to do. A waltz of emotions dance before Lovino's eyes: enthralled, anxious, wonder, eager, astonishment, anticipation. Looking at the boy in his hand, Antonio states, "Don't get too excited, we haven't got to the best part yet, queridita."

Once they passes through the entrance, Lovino couldn't help but be amazed by the queen's palace. As a servant under the Infanta, he was placed in a separate quarters away from the palace, and are only allowed to serve her highness when his presence is needed for a public event. The whole courtyard was cemented by richly colored limestone. The well-groomed decorate trees and vines were green with life and vigor. There was a fountain filled with frolicking statues in the middle of the yard. To the lefts and rights, there were rooms yet to be explored by the public eyes. Of course the palace was a sight to behold, but, an itch refuses to leave his skin… It was burning, Lovino wanted to rip it away. Badly. Desperately. He hated the fact that he had to cling to the knight the entire time they were here. _Why does the bastard Spaniard always treated him like a hopeless little princess that needs to be saved all the damned time?_ After they walk pass the courtyard, oblivious to Lovino's inner conflict, Antonio tilts his head to the Italian's ear and quietly hints, "If you don't smile, Lovino, I shall declare my love for you in front of all of these people."Lovino's eyes enlarged, his pupil thinning, and try to crack a forced smile as he strolls in the arm of the irksome Spaniard. _I'll show you… after we're done with the play._

The play was being held in one of the building of Casa de Contratación, a chapel. When the Italian set foot inside the majestic house, he was face with a gigantic painting, The Virgin of the Navigators, it illustrate a time where Cristóbal Colón discover the land of the Americas. Antonio smile and lead Lovino to a special reserve area for himself, a secluded space over every other seats in the theater. The Spanish man turns to the right and walk up to a red entry, the palace's guard in front opens the door for the queen's special guest. Antonio walks inside with his 'lady' and up the long stair they went. Lovino was glad that he chose to wear the flat shoes instead of the painful high heels the knight offers. At the end of the staircase stood another red door, once opens, there were already chairs and a table in decadent colors to welcomed the knight. The queen's servants open the crimson silk currents for Antonio and Lovino to enjoy the upcoming play below them.

The servants inside the chapel close all the open windows and get loose the curtains. The whole room now is veiled over by blackness. Then, hundreds dots of candles begin giving back the life and the colors inside the chapel. The stage up front unveils its closed crimson drapes, and out from behind is none other than the Infanta herself.

"Ladies and gentleman, thank you so much for coming here to enjoy '_The Star of Seville', by _Lope Felix de Vega Carpio, with me on this day. I hope that you all will be pleased and have a wonderful time here as much as I do since this piece is written by my favorite playwright. This show, today, is dedicated to you, my dear Antonio Fernandez Carriedo, thank you for your fearless bravery, for your contribution to Seville, for your immeasurable kindness, for everything. So without further ado, '_The Star of Seville' _begins now, please excused me… " Infanta Maria Antonia Ferdinanda lifts up a petal of her dress and greet good byes to her audience, the crowd, in returns, claps at her disappearing form on the stage. The knight raised his hand at _Infanta Maria Antonia Ferdinanda _inside his room on top of the theater, the queen's smile and bit a small bow at him. The crowd's applauses slowly died down, the whole room was in a quiet trance. A man dressed in a neat robe appears before the spectators; he held up a scroll and originates in a deep voice:

'_Known by all the people in the affluent town of Seville, a fair maiden, Stella Tabera is acknowledged for her compassion and unbelievable allures which charmed many men into seeking her hand for marriage. The people crowned her the title, the "Star of Seville.", a suitable name for a divine woman like hers. Bustos, her older brother, sadly, on the other hand, is hardly noticed for his unbending nobleness. Don Sancho Ortiz, her brother's dearest friend, seeks Stella in a joyful reunion of their love; which she agreed to after seeing the man behind his mask. Their love, however, was intervened by the Ruler of Castile. In an accidental meeting, the Ruler set out to locate Stella's whereabouts; a beauty that fuels his highness' desires and seeks pursues her love by any means…" _The announcer bows and excused himself, the blinds behind him opens, and then the actors behind slowly arises, playing their designated role.

_The King's close companion and adviser, Arias, suggest his highness that by recognizing Bustos' integrity and honor, Stella will be enchanted over by his kindness. The King then tries to fool Bustos with words of nothingness and gifts for his nobilities, but, Bustos manage to sees through the King's deceitfulness acts. The King then turns to Stella and attempts to ask for her hand in marriage, but she is no fool, a wise woman she is. Seeing how the King struggles with his love, Arias brides Mathilde, Bustos' personal slave, to let the King into Stella's bedroom during a full moon when her brother is gone from seeing eyes. Without knowing of the intrusion, Bustos return back to his home when the sky is eaten by darkness and the moon tells lies, he takes down the trespasser in Stella's bedroom, only to have the man behind the mask to be none other than the King himself. After the King's mask taken away and his identity was known, Bustos set the King free. In the town of Seville, rumors are set free, looks of disgusts, respects being broken; the King was infuriated by the tales and lies about his unsightly action in the Tabera's household. He turns to seek help from his adviser, Arias, once again. Arias told one of his best knights, Don Sancho Ortiz, to kill Bustos, his dearest friend and Stella's, his soon to be wife, older brother. Sancho have no other choice since he respect and love his King dearly. He challenge Bustos into a duel after a futile argument and kills his dear best friend. Sanchos was arrested immediately afterwards to which he refuses to admit why he killed Bustos…_

The man, who played the character, Sanchos, glares at Lovino with his hawk eyes and threw this blade toward him. The Italian squealed in a high-pitched voice, shielding his head with his hands as protection. Fear threatened to ingest Lovino. _What did he ever do to deserve this? Who is this bastard? Damned that Spaniard for tricking him to be here; dressed in a gown no less._ The crowd sniveled and broke into hysteria; people huddled up with their partners and dashed toward the exit. Strong wind current rushes by the whole theater, thus, taking out the burning flames inside the lighted candles. A ghostly quiet haunts the entire theater. The once warm and lively chamber was cold as ice.

… _Ah…_

… _So, what happens next? _

_Will he die here?... Just like that?_

… _How will Feliciano and Grandpa Roma cope with his abrupt death?_

Lovino's heart rang loudly in his ears like thunders. _Thump, thump, thump._ He panics when droplets of blood dotted on his skin like ink… _Huh…? Where is the blade…? _He crack an eye open. Lovino looks up and gasps in disbelief. Antonio was in front of him; his left chest was drenched in his own crimson blood. The knight looks down to make sure Lovino is alright before removing the embedded blade away from his back. He turns, a jump, and then landed on top of the marble floor beneath with a smooth '_thud_'. Antonio sprint toward the stage, like a gust of wind, and then borrows a sword from one of the guards and unsheathes the sharp blade inside. With his sword pointed at the trespasser, the knight declares, "Halt your madness," His emerald eyes on the opponent before him.

The man proclaims, smirking, "Make me." He slurred over the words in his Turkish accent. He takes out the sword besides his hips and makes a quick pass over Antonio's neck. The knight dodges the sharp blade coming from his left; he then duck under the Turk's left side and left an open wound behind his track. The Turkish man bites his lips and let out a small yelp at the impact, blood begin to leave his body. A red flash was seen before the man's eyes. Little petals of injuries slowly spouted all over his body. Then, a deep wound appears on his stomach in a shape of a lily… _Where is he? Where is the fucker?!_ The Spaniard was nowhere to be seen inside this damned dark shithole. He growled furiously and begins swinging his sword like an irate canine losing his kill.

As the sun sink over the horizon; small droplets of the auburn lights peaked through the broken glass window inside the theater. Ripped curtains, punctured floor, scarlet blood stained walls. The intruder proves himself to a worthy opponent, he only attacks the knight face on, and never once had he laid a finger his back. The sounds of their swords clashing against each other vibrate within the theater's walls. Quick shallow rapid breaths, eyes seeing crimson, it was a fight to their death, their defeat. The palace guards steps away from the fighting duo, respecting their wishes to fight one on one against each other. Antonio's red against the Turk's black; virtuosity against impurity; righteous against evil. A quick stab of his sword to his left, the Turkish man smirked. _Caught you._

Lovino stayed inside the room on top of the theater, with his breath held in, he observed the play before him, silently rooting for the knight. "No…" The boy whispered upon seeing Antonio injured by the Turkish man's blade.

The knight kept his cool the entire battle. The darkness outside of the theater slowly creeps up inside, tinting the stage a beautiful onyx color. Antonio steps back and hid himself in the shadow of the blooming darkness. The Turkish man walks around the theater to look for the knight, he dragged his blade against the marble floor, with wicked intention for his prey once founded. The shadows inside the theater moves once again as time passes with each ticking second. With lightning speed, the knight pierced through his oponent's left chest once the candles in the theater burns out. The Turkish man is now kneeling on the ground, laughing and whisper under his breath, "You are a sick bastard,". Antonio face's shown solemnity before delivering the final blow. He bows his head at the beaten opponent in front of him; to show his respect and honors the man's death.

The palace's guards lit up lanterns borrowed from the armory. Once Antonio's person was visible by the lights, Lovino release his breath. He picked up his skirt and race down the long stairway. The boy swung the red door opens and hurries toward Antonio's body that's covered in his own crimson blood. Deeply injured by his duel, the knight could barely stand as he returns back the blade he borrowed from a guard beforehand. With help from the palace's guards, Antonio was safely return back to his carriage, Lovino follow suit behind quietly. His heart, a disruptive clutter the entire time.

The boy was scared and alarmed, he was terrified, petrified, shocked, frightened…

… _What if the damned knight dies…? _

On the way their way back, Lovino kept looking at his hands resting in his laps, fidgeting and pulling on the cornor of his dress. His face was white as the cleared sky as he accidentally comes to face with the panting Spaniard in front of him. Antonio had his eyes close the entire time, at times, he'll choked on his own blood and Lovino would wipe the red away from his face by using a sleeve of his dress.

"Thank you, my darling..." Said the knight, his green eyes no longer radiates with the burning sun within him.

"... Shut up, you're wasting your breath, you bastard..." The Italian bit his lips, looking away. Lovino's cruel words are nothing but an reassurance for himself.

When the carriage returns back to Antonio's mansion, Roderich drags his wounded master into the front gate, and calls out for the servants inside to come help. The maids and butlers, awake and alerted by Antonio's, help their master situated into the nearest bedroom, one of the guest's rooms. They close the door and refused to let anybody in, not even Lovino. One of the maids pushes the Italian back to the main bedroom, not caring for a word from the boy.

Lovino sat in on Antonio's bed, waiting, waiting, and waiting. His heart still beats rapidly, like thunders clashing against each other. He remembered the awful morning dressing up like a girl, then seeing the queen's palace for the first time, the excitement when he saw the people on stage begins moving and reading their script… Then, the Turkish man and his dangerous hawk eyes. The bloody duel between Antonio and the Turk, and, finally, Antonio, in his refined robe, drenched in his own blood from the fight. Lovino bites his lips, and looks at the silk blinds next to him. He must see Antonio. _Now._

.

Lovino waited outside of the guest's room, he leans over and peaked inside the chamber through the glass window. Antonio was breathing heavily and coughs profoundly, a bloody mess is he. The maids rush to bandage up as much of Antonio's injuries as possible, but, it is quite impossible since his wounds were deep and vital. A while later, the knight loses his conscience and stay still for a very long time. The maids panic upon seeing their master's action. Lovino's hands grip hard against the edge of the window's frame. _Thump! Thump! Thump! _The butler checked up on Antonio and alerts everybody that their master is sleeping, thankfully. Lovino releases the long breath he had held in. The warm colors on his pale face slowly returns.

After four hours of caring for their unconscious master, the servants decided to leave him to rest for the time being. The door shut close, no more of the frightening words, no more of the terror faces of the maids and butlers, no more of the blood, the shouting, the heated duel… and Antonio's pained face.

A voice catches Lovino's attention.

"Hey, Lovino," The knight acknowledged, his green eyes clouded with exhaustion from the blood loss, "Come inside, it's cold out there." The Italian boy wavered, but decided to open the window and approach the drained Spaniard on the bed. Antonio's face showed no signs of his usual vigorous energy and enthusiasm.

"You looked like a helpless princess, darling." Noted the knight, he pull a slight chuckle upon seeing Lovino's dress covered in his red blood.

The boy pouted. "You don't look quite good yourself, dear knight." Lovino's face was a flushing rosy color, with avoided eyes, he muttered_ "… T… than…"_

"What was that, Lovino?" Antonio questioned again, his face shown misunderstanding, and then focuses all of this attention on the Italian standing by his bed.

Lovino's face was a burning bloodshot color. _"… Thanks…" _

The Spanish man stifled a laugh. "I'm truly sorry; I cannot hear you in my condition." He pestered softly.

"I said, '_thanks_', voi bastardi!" Lovino hit Antonio on the face using a pillow near him. Antonio laughs. He slowly rises from the bed and then grab onto the Italian's right hand. The boy paused at the touch on his skin; the knight was looking straight into his eyes, searching and reading the meaning in his amber orbs. He motioned Lovino to sit down, which he complied without a complaint. Antonio leans his head to the side, and then slowly moves toward Lovino. He gradually let his lips touch Lovino's, testing their proximity. There was a surge of conflicting emotion inside Lovino's head, his hands grip tightly against the mattress… _should he push the knight away? Yell at him as usual? Hit him? _… Lovino's eyes close gradually and let the feel of the knight's soft lips on his remains.

They part. "Stay here with me." The knight leans his forehead against Lovino's, still observing the fire in his amber eyes. The Italian grumbled; a petulant sound he makes, but submitted to Antonio's bidding nonetheless.

That short night, for a brief moment, they drift off into a peaceful slumber, together.

.

_The night from before. _

The crescent moon glowed faintly on the sky, leafs of stars was having a ballet. Underneath the moon, behind the towering mountains, is a ship cloaked by the darkness. There were men in black robes on the ship's top deck, murmuring among themselves about a 'Turkish captive under their captain's wing'. Passing the shadows of those men, under the fore boom, through the main deck, down the hatch, is the hold. A special captive was locked in the room today.

A voice spoke out from the dark. "Oh, dear brave sir, wake you." With a snap of his hand, a mate on his right side splashes ocean water against the prisoner's face. The chained man against a wooden plank curtly opens his eyes, desperately gasping for air as the water left his face, dripping a small rainfall. After a nice conversation with the prisoner, the captor ended his speech with a smile.

The man looked deep into his captor's green eyes. "You, mean… you'll let me live…?"

"Ah, but, like I said, I can't let you go empty handed, 'An eye for and eye', good sir." The captor replied, dusting off the speck of dirt on his robe.

"… What makes you do such a thing, Mil-Cara?" The prisoner questioned, his eyes never once left his captor's.

"I like your face." The captor replied with a small grin, his white teeth were shown in between his dark lips. Then, he turns to his back and tells his mate, "Watch over him for me, mi amigo?"

"Ay, kapitän."The red-eyed man retorted. Then, he closes the door once the captor left the chamber.

Most of the captor men's were on the upper deck, noiselessly rushing to cleanse the ship off of bloodstains from the intruders. His left hand mate was in the bridge, trying to pinpoint another site to relocate the ship in. With a jump, he landed on the sand with a quiet sound. He stood up and turns over to have a look at the mermaid on the ship's front prow. "Even in skin and bones, you are still a stunner; no wonder he was so in love with you." The captor observed, brushing the mermaid's golden hair to the side, remembering the time when she spread herself for him under the sunset. When the captor left the mother ship, he said to himself, _'I should name my ship, 'Ámbar Lirios', after my endearing little gem.'_

As the captor headed back to his mansion, a small bit of daylight dawn's mists creeps up on his retreating form, he begins humming, "If you love me, if sighs, sol for me, gentle shepherd… I delight of your love, but if you think insole, I owe you Riamar, Pastorello, you are subject…"

* * *

**Author's Note:**

Yes, and I'm quoting Shakespeare, shameless promotion for his play:

Romeo and Juliet Act 2, scene 2, 33–49


	3. The Lost Prince

_Chapter 3: The Lost Prince_

* * *

There was blackness.

Not a sound was heard.

Silence.

The velvet crimson screens uncover by themselves, claps and whistles could be heard from below the stage. Five shadows stood within the dark, waiting for the time to play their selected character. A man step forward, away from the other four black figures behind him. A bright light hits on his person.

_Click._

"A feared pirate, the most wanted man in the world, it is said that the government would pay anything for his man to be found, dead or alive. Nobody knows the pirate's real name, the people call him by the tittle _'Mil-Cara'_, a man who had lived a thousand life, have had said a thousand lie, and have killed a thousand men, he uses the skin on a deceased man's face as a disguise, a mysterious mask over his face, until he finds his next victim." The announcer was he call, stated in a deep boastful voice, his indigo eyes sheen lustrously against the stage's light on him.

"Unfortunately, a young boy by the name of Lovino Vargas catches this pirate's attention." The young actor behind the announcer alleged, a hint of his Norway accent succeed to cut over his Spanish's script.

"And once again, he wears a mask of a dead man to covers his beautiful lies; playing a role of a brave knight, another chapter of his life begins. "The actor next to him said in a monotone voice, there was no feelings shown in his collected speech.

"I love to travel to great lands and explore the hidden unknowns; the sea is my freedom, my home, my identity. Maybe someday you and I could sail through the Atlantic Ocean to escape this land of greediness and venality?" A blonde Swedish man appears from behind the two actors proposed, mimicking the knight's dialogue in his script perfectly. The stage's light beamed against his glasses; intensifying his already terrifying appearance.

The Finnish performer, who played Lovino, strides forth, in a strong voice he declares, "No way, I would never subdued myself to you, dannati Spagnolo."

"… I will wait. For eternity, until you to accept me." The Swedish man replied, looking straight at his Finnish partner.

The five Nordic men then stand tall in a single line, facing the audience, and proclaim in a distress voice, "What shall be the fate of our protagonist, Lovino Vargas, from now on…?"

.

"You are recovering quite nicely, Sir Carriedo." A maid implied, after checking for master's wounds and rebadged him with new bindings. Lovino was beside the knight's bed, watching the scene, his face a flushing red rose at the pretty maid before him.

"I am in debt to your kindness, Bella." Antonio grinned at his maid; his eyes were green with gusto and passion.

"No need for your considerable words, Sir Carriedo, it is my job after all." She winked. With a courteous smile, she bows her head and lifts both ends of her skirt, and bit a parting to Antonio and Lovino. After closing the door without a sound, she rushes back and apologized. "Sir Carriedo, pardon me, there are two visitors, and I'm guessing they are Lovino's relatives, Sir Roma Vargas and young Sir Feliciano Vargas?"

Lovino's face lit up at the words from the maid, his eyes silently pleading the knight to let them in... "Please, let them in, Bella." Said the Spaniard, Lovino looked away, mutely tense by how Antonio read him like an open book. The maid left and then returns back with the Italian's grandfather and young brother, and once again, she dismisses herself without making a hassle. Antonio sat up, smiling at Lovino's upbeat, optimistic face upon meeting his cherished family members. Feliciano and Grandpa Roma greet and rejoice with Lovino for a while before paces over to the knight's sitting on the bed.

"Ah, pardon our intrusion, Antonio, just recently, we heard a rumor throughout the town that Reales Alcázares was under attack by a terrifying 'Turkish intruder', and that you defend the palace under the name of Infanta Maria Antonia Ferdinanda herself… Are you alright, my dear? How about your wounds, are you healing properly? Is there anything we could do to help?" The grandfather probed, he wears a worrisome expression over his façade.

"Thank you. It is not a big deal, Sir Vargas. I am recovering quite nicely, considering; I'm a brave knight after all." Antonio joked, grinning politely.

Grandpa Roma's stomach hitches a rumpled, chuckling, "No need for formality with this old man, Antonio, just a simple 'Roma' is fine by me!" He pats the knight on his shoulder. Hard.

"Are you really okay, Antonio?" Feliciano inquired, looking at the knight with his enormous, goodness eyes. "We brought you our homemade pasta. From generations to generations, it is believed that it will cured away any of the Vargas' sickness!" Out from the basket in his left hand is a pasta bowl filled all the way to the brim, the red sauce threatened to spill over.

Antonio laughs, "Why thank you, dear Feliciano, you are very generous. Please don't be too kind to me; I might take in you as my wife."

Feliciano grinned. "No way! I have a lover already, pick someone else!"

"Aw, that is too bad." The knight commented, hoaxed hurting in his voice, and strokes the young Italian's hair with a twinkle in his gentle eyes. Lovino stood in the corner of Antonio's bed, unobtrusively observing the beautiful painting before him. There was a heartfelt atmosphere over the amused trio; they look like a perfect family, a valiant young knight, an endearing Italian boy, and compassionate grandfather. Lovino felt a spike of jealously arises; his eyebrows hunched together, the fire in his amber eyes ignite, he bites his lips… _why couldn't he be treated kindly like his younger brother and grandfather? _Seriously, what is wrong with acting normally like this instead of being all creepy and weird when the knight is with him?... Unless, Lovino doesn't deserved to be treated kindly. Is this why...?

"Hey, hey, Antonio, did you know that if you make a wish to a shooting star, it'll come true?" Feliciano inquired, smiling so innocently like it was a statement rather than a question. _Is this why...?_

"Feliciano, please stop sprouting nonsense..." Lovino stated, looking at his dumb brother.

"Lovino! Don't talk to your brother like that, let the kid dream." Grandpa Roma defended, stroking his youngest grandson't head.

"Actually, Lovino, I think it is quite true, I mean, what Feliciano is saying that is." Antonio remarked, smiling at the Italian standing next to Lovino. The older brother made a face. "Ah, but let's move on since we have obviously made Lovino felt uncomfortable... Roma, remember last time you where here and we had a discussion about Italy? I wanted to know more about your culture and customs, it is fascinating." _Is this why...? _

"Alright, young knight! Lend me your ears, I shall tell you of the great painter Leonardo da Vinci in the Italian Renaissance, he is a brilliant innovator...!" The grandfather begins. He talks about many things, boundlessly, except when he forgets and stumpled on some broken history. Nevertheless, Antonio listened attentively to Grandpa Roma's, his eyes however, where on Lovino the entire time. On the other hand, Lovino's frown worsened by each moments shared between the happy trio in front of him. He didn't like how Antonio manage to intertwined himself in his life, how warmly Feliciano and Grandpa Roma accepted him just like that, how Lovino is invisible before them...

After chatting way with Antonio nonstop about random and irrelevant topics, the sky reflect an auburn hue over the windows, it is time for Feliciano and Grandpa Roma bit good-byes to the knight. The knight part, smiling, "Farewell, Feliciano and Roma, I felt so much better eating your delicious pasta."

"Thank you, Antonio, come visit our home when you regain your energy!" The young Italian brother replied, waving his hands excitedly.

"See you soon, Antonio!... Lovino, please treat the man with some courtesy, he is a sick person after all!" The grandfather eyed his eldest grandson, worrying that Lovino might take advantage of the knight's kindness.

"Sure." Lovino nodded, not bothering to throw back a nasty comment or two. Bella came back and escort them to Antonio's personal carriage.

"Ah, Bella, while you're at it, please give them nice something for me?" Antonio inquired, looking at his maid.

The maid smile and nods her head at her master. "Of course. Your wish is my command, Sir Carriedo!"

Lovino look out the glass window to sees his grandfather and young brother take off in the cart to dwelling orange sun. It just seemed like everytime he sees them, it'll be their last meeting. He bit his lips and closes his eyes, praying for the best and good luck for his Grandpa Roma and Feliciano. _Please be alright since I won't be at the house for some time._

"Lovino, I did not know what an attentive and considerate person you are." The knight mused, looking at the boy's back.

"Forget the flattery, knight." Lovino bit back, his eyes stilled on the placid evening sky.

He turns to face the knight on the bed. "You do not know me. You and I are strangers, we both have share nothing of each other..."

"... You are absolutely right. Sit here with me. Let us talk for a while, Lovino." Antonio pats at a spot next to his on the bed. The Italian grunt, his lips huddled together unattractively, but incompliance with the Spaniard's invitation, regardless. Lovino sat next to the knight, his face on his laps. "Until now, I do not know who you are as a person, where you came from, your lifestyle, your opinion, nothing." Antonio commented, his hand held up Lovino's chin to look at him.

The Italian push Antonio's hand away, "Why do you need to know? I am a nobody." His amber eyes grew isolated, cold, and aloof, insisted the knight to drop his questions.

"Your eyes tell me otherwise, Lovino." Antonio held up the boy's hand and kisses it as a promise. "I want to know you."

Lovino assert his eyes to the window. _I don't have a choice, anyway._ He opens his lips, "I was born and raised in the Kingdom of Sicily in Italy. When I was nine, I moved to Seville with Grandpa Roma and Feliciano."

"Go on. What else?" Antonio urged.

Lovino signed, he didn't like where this conversation headed to, "Let's just get this over with. We build a shack and lived here until now. My grandpa thought that we'll have a better life here, hah, if only he remembers how wrong he was. I didn't make any friends, not even now… You Spaniards are just a bunch of idiots and fools, anyway. As for Feliciano, my naïve, stupid little brother has always been that, stupid. He was a useless wreck, he didn't know what to do, and messes up everything. I grew concern for the welfare of my dumb brother and dense grandfather. When I was ten, I become a servant under the Infanta, our life changed, it was hard, but it was better than before, a lot more."

"What happens to your parents?" The knight interrogated; his emerald eyes on Lovino the entire time.

Lovino hesitated, his amber eyes shown soberness. "… My father had an affair with another woman, he left. My mother suffers greatly from the loss, her loneliness killed her."

Antonio face grew solemn. "My sincere apology…"

"No need, dear knight." Lovino retorted flatly, his amber eyes shown a mixed of emotions, confusion, hesitation, uncertainty, misunderstanding…_ Why? Why is the knight so interested in his unexciting and detached life? Is he being genuine or just simply toying with him?_

"I have a loving family." Antonio smiles fondly, staring into the sedative scenery behind his glass window. "A very protective, caring father, he love to spoil me, he taught me how to ride a horse, handling a sword, the whole world. As for my mother, she was stunningly breathtaking, like you, Lovino, amber eyes, and long, soft auburn locks, and thoughtful, she always put the needs and care for others before herself. On an afternoon, when the sun sets, she told me, while stroking my hair, 'You are my everything, pajarito, my precious life.' And I couldn't have loved her more. Because of them, this is where I ended up today, protecting others in need, a place in the royal palace, a home, a title, all thanks to my proud father and generous mother..."

A twitch. Lovino grew envy of Antonio's life being unfold before him. "... You lived a good life, knight." He turns to look straight at the irritating Spaniard and his smiling emerald eyes. "...You do not understand how I felt at right at this moment... I wanted to hurt you, badly... somehow, someway, in order for you to know how I felt. If only you're in my shoes for just a while… I'm nothing, I am an invisible, nasty, unpleasant little boy, I do not have a title like you do, I only held proudly onto my name, hoping for a day when I'm noticed and recognized for something noble, something attained by my own without helps of others. You wouldn't understand... because you already have the things that I wanted, greatly desired. No one, not one person even tried…" Lovino expressed, he trailed off the very last of his words, his face was insipid and somber, and then he let out a deep breath… _Huh?_ _How… how did the knight manage to make him expresses the way he felt just like that? Not even Feliciano could've… Damn it. Shit, I must have looked like an idiot._

"My, aren't you all grown up." Antonio teased, ruffling Lovino's messy hair. "You remind me of Oedipus."

"… Who?" The small boy questioned, his eyebrows arched together, puzzled. _This knight and his strange references…_

Antonio laughs and then raised one of his hands above his face, a playful declaration:

_"O wealth and empiry and skill by skill  
Outwitted in the battlefield of life,  
What spite and envy follow in your train!  
See, for this crown the State conferred on me.  
A gift, a thing I sought not, for this crown  
The trusty Creon, my familiar friend,  
Hath lain in wait to oust me and suborned  
This mountebank, this juggling charlatan,  
This tricksy beggar-priest, for gain alone  
Keen-eyed, but in his proper art stone-blind.  
Say, sirrah, hast thou ever proved thyself  
A prophet? When the riddling Sphinx was here  
Why hadst thou no deliverance for this folk?  
And yet the riddle was not to be solved  
By guess-work but required the prophet's art..."_

Lovino looked confused.

Antonio bit back a chuckle. "Of him, he was wrapped up in his prophet, and you, your ego, your shame… What I'm trying to say is… calm down, life is long; you have so much to look forward to, little one." The Italian grew worried, then agitation begin to hit him; the knight and he are no longer strangers. They have becomes people with their secrets exposed, a shared bond, something akin to a companionship have formed without his consent.

"I'm not a child, dannati Spagnolo, stop treating me like one." The boy's cheeks were still deep red from his own embarrassing outburst earlier. This "little talk" is getting really weird, too personal for his taste.

"... Oh...? Prove it." The knight challenged, looking deeply into Lovino's amber eyes. "... How about teaching me how an adult would kiss, young lad?" The Italian boy wasn't amused. The everyday frown on his pink lips worsened by each transient seconds... _Who the hell do you think you are? Shit, what should he do? If he back out now... I will show you, if you insisted..._

Lovino held his breath in, closes his amber eyes, and then grabbed onto Antonio's shirt and shrove their lips together in a sloppy deep kiss. He forces his own tongue in and come in contact the knight's, topping himself for dominance. He mindlessly wiggles and thrashing his mouth around, seeking the knight's weak spot. Something that will drive him crazy... anything... Antonio kisses the boy back with skilled ease, teasing and taunting his childish movements. The noise, oh god, it was so slick and wet, loud... and embarrasing! How could Antonio stand this revolting act? It's disgusting... A lick to the right, Lovino groaned silently in the kiss. After a while of exploring, Lovino let his guard down and permits the knight's experienced tongue to enter his own mouth. Antonio smiles and slowly removes himself way from the boy.

"Is that all you've got, Italian? Heh…" The knight mocked, licking Lovino's red lips, his eyes were frisky and excited. Lovino glared at the infuriating Spaniard and strangled his hips, returning back to Antonio's mouth once more. Antonio closes his eyes, enjoying their long, intimate joint. _Cute._ Lovino's taste was so sweet, so refined, like the Chianti wine he had on the balcony with him the other day, he smells like amber lilies, too, intoxicating and heavy, and his skin, so soft and silky to the touch... Antonio presses their bodies closer, and inclines the boy's head to the side for better access. A wet teardrop comes in contact with Antonio's right hand. He paused and then removes himself away from the Italian. His green eyes deepened its color.

Lovino was crying. All of his pent-up frustration finally exploded. A burst of emotions ran before Lovino's amber eyes.

"... Damn you… damn you… damn you…" The boy chanted, muffling his own cries, using his hands over his face as a shield. Lovino was angry, maddened, and upset. He was so weak; so incompetent, he couldn't do anything right, he was just like Feliciano, worser even, he doesn't understand what Antonio meant during the Oedipus', or whatever his name is, speech, not even now... the kissing. It was bad, and he knew it… He wasn't as likeable like his adorable younger brother, he wasn't as selfless as Grandpa Roma, he wasn't as strong as Antonio... He felt like a speck of dust in the air, so timid and afraid of this weak side of his being on display before the Spaniard. _This __is why everybody ignored him. Why everybody shunned him… Why everybody left. True to his words, he was a weak, discreet, selfish little boy._

Antonio looks over to his window. It is night-time already. "I am truly sorry, Lovino. I shouldn't have pushed you like that; it is unacceptable of me to treat you like a child. _'A fool gives full vent to his anger, but a wise man keeps himself under control.'" _Antonio coed; kissing the Italian's forehead as an apology for using such strong words against him. "… Allow me tell you a story, before must we part for the night." He wipes away Lovino's tears and sadness. Antonio gently pushes the boy to lie down on the spot next to him. He pulls the blanket up to covers Lovino's body, knowing how much he hated the cold. With a tender smile, he begins.

"Once upon a time… In a land far, far way, there live an avaricious King; he wanted to have complete control of everything in his kingdom. From trading, to lands, to housings, to traveling, to money, the villagers must get an approval by the King before starting anything. As times goes on, the people in the kingdom grew weary of their lifestyle, then, there was resentment, irritation, frustration, livid, an outraged broke loose. A hero rise among them, he takes down the castle's walls, and marches right up to the King, his sword against his Highness' neck. Even if the King was an oppressor to the people of the kingdom, he was a kind husband to his wife and thoughtful father to his only son. He begged the hero to let his family live in exchange for his own lowly life, in return, however, the hero refuses the King's proposal. The hero kills the King without a bit of his spared compassion and burn down his castle, trapping his family alongside his corpse. The King's wife didn't want her only child to die without seeing the vast world before him, so she sent a servant of hers, an angel, to save her son from the fire. _'The world is a stage, young prince.'_ Said the angel before taken off with her wings. Once the castle is nothing but valuableness, burnt ashes, the hero built a palace on top of the ruin land, a fortress more glorious, magnificent, and diviner than what was there before. The people of the kingdom then were at peace due to the King's downfall…" Antonio trailed off, looking over Lovino's amber eyes.

A whisper, "… What happens next?" The Italian on his bed looks up the knight with engrossed orbs, his falling tears creased. With a small grin, Antonio begins stroking Lovino's auburn locks.

"… When the young prince, opens his eyes, before him, is a beautiful clear ocean, the waves are so calm and smoothing. He was on an island of sort, away from his kingdom. The prince was very lonely and distraught that he had lost everything; his home, his family, his land, his self. One day, the young prince decided to set sail and explore the mysterious land ahead of him, for many years, he wanders around the ocean, purposelessly. On an accidental meeting, he finds his destined one, a lover. Despite living in a different world from the prince, his lover did not care and, together, they decided to sail back to the island and spend the rest of their life there, forever. Forgetting about the bad memories and replace it with a peaceful present of their own… And then they live happily ever after… The end." With gentle green eyes, Antonio caresses one of Lovino's cheeks lovingly, as if to urge him to fall deeper to his own serene fairyland. He pulls up the blanket over his own body, and then turn the over way to blow out a burning candle beside his bed. Then, the knight closes his green eyes, joining Lovino's dream.

.

A clash of colors fighting for control over the others. Oranges, reds, yellows, the sun slowly disintegrates over the horizon. The swimming dolphins are no longer hurdling happily out on the distant ocean. The flying seagulls on top of the sun are desperately seeking for shelters from the fading daylight. The amber lilies, the palm trees, and the green grasses slowly cover themselves against the deserted twilight. The coming night was cold and arid. Luckily, buds of flourishing stars are blossoming as each minute's passes. There was a breeze gust of wind.

Looking at his reflection in the ocean water, he cringed, and shrank back. Red scarlet face, hands, drenched in fresh crimson blood, there are bubbles forming on his feet, the whites and inflamed foams threatening to burst. His whole body was a burnt mess. _It hurt_… Pain, degradation, humiliation, deprivation, but worst of all, he was alone. Abandoned. _What happen? Where am I…?_

A boy was spotted sitting on the sand watching the end of sunset.

* * *

Reference:

Sophocles, Oedipus Rex

BIBLE, Proverbs 29:11


	4. Of Roses and Cats

**_Chapter 4_: **Of Roses and Cats

* * *

"Come with me, you looked like you're in great pain."

"To where?"

"To the infinite ocean, of course. We shall set sail tomorrow."

"Sounds dangerous, is it?"

"Yes, that is why it is so much more exciting."

"... I like cats..."

"There are many more in the vast water sky, I am sure they will be pleased meeting you."

"I will come with you, then."

_The blinds undo, revealing a blank black stage, and then lights, hundreds of them, lighted the darkness on fire. The songstress walked up to the front in her crimson gown and lifts up the end corners of her skirt. The crowd underneath her applauses and threw playful whistles at the beautiful woman. Once the ovation perished, she joints her hands together and then closes her eyes. Her red lips parted gracefully, she then begins, _"… If you love me, if sighs… Sol for me, gentle shepherd, I dolor de 'your martyrs… I delight of your love, but if you think insole, I owe you Riamar… Pastorello, you are subject…Easily t'ingannar…"

Her captivated audience closes their eyes and sings along her song, "… Beautiful purple rose…"

_Snap. _

"_Today Silvia choose… Under the guise of the plug…" A flash of red covers the entire room. Small, hollow murmurs of promises and wishes. The gingers and the oranges and the yellows in the windows tarnished the redness in the inside of the theater. The wine glasses and plates dance with one another, having a ball as they jangled and tangled blissfully against each other. _

_The woman shred a beautiful blue tear at the audience before her, overjoyed that the people came here to listen to her song,_ "Doman then despise…"

The tears couldn't stop _falling, she was deeply touched, _"But the men on board," _A young boy with red eyes jumped on top of his chair and threw her a crimson rose of his, _"… for me it does not follow…" _The songstress catches the rose from her admirer, but the she ended up with a splinter from one of the thorns._

"…not because I like the lily…" _The men sitting on the seats get up and then proceeds to take the flowers away from the virgin girls. The girls squeal every time a petal of their flowers get plucked away from their stem, the men counted; she loves me; she loves me not... But, who will be there to return their love when the flowers are all wilted from having their petals tattered?_

"… The other flowers sprezzerò…." _The lovely song ended with the woman lying on the dark stage floor, with her face in sapphire waterworks and her throat covered in the rose petals, the most gorgeous red color. The color of love and passion…_

… _Oh, I didn't see you there, Miss Rosie… Come here, I'm your new friend. Dear, how rude of me, let me put away my brushes and paint canvas. Alright then, let me introduce myself before I forget… My name is Heracles Karpusi, I am a butler of the Carriedo's household. You must think I'm a ridiculous man when I tell you this, but it is the truth I say. I am a pirate. I am known as 'El Gato' on the big wide sea, it is such a wonderful name isn't it? There is a really funny story behind my title, you see, I am Master Antonio's personal servant, my specialty is making puppets to entertain my master in performances; he once jokingly called me by that name upon seeing my art for the first time. _

"You look like a cat playing with dolls."_ Oh, what a silly master he is... But I like the name nevertheless; it has a certain tingle to it on my tongue when I say it out loud. _

_True to my master's words, the stage before me was exhilarating, the performers around me always dressed in profligate clothing, of each of the chapter we explore, I was always given a souvenir; a puppet in each episode. There is a white puppet from the land of the Americas, a black puppet from Africa, a yellow puppet from China, and many, many more that I deeply prized. And now… Spain, my master told me that soon, I will be given another puppet. I am so glad that Master Antonio taken me on his ship and sightsee the cosmic world before me. I quickly become friends with his right hand mate, Gilbert, and left hand mate, Francis. The three friends always invited me to exotic and new places, though; I prefer participating in performances in theaters rather than exchange of words of endearment. I was overcome with joy when Master Antonio told me to play the part of a butler in the Carriedo's household in Seville; this role was simple yet complex. A wolf in a sheep's clothes, a kindhearted man in disguised as a pirate, a white color in the midst of the dark colors... this would be a great idea for a novel._

_I befriend this older gentleman during my stay here; he was a puppet maker, just like me, what a coincident, right? He also love the arts and theaters, I know, I could not believe my eyes when he showed me his performances on stage, though, must he played the part of a villain in every story? His name is Sadik, the strangest of names, sound like it when a cat spits out a ball. He looks unkind and callous on the outside, but he had a heart of a kitten on the inside. On one particular visit, he knew that I love cats, so he gives me you, Miss Rosie; you are so fluffy and beautiful. I bet you miss him, huh? Do not worry, we will come visit him together again some other days._

_When Master Antonio told me that he is in love with this Italian boy name Lovino Vargas, I couldn't believe what my deceitful ears told me. How funny, a pirate in love. It is such a beautiful story though; a feared pirate trying to captures the love of a boy so far away from his reach. Speaking of which, I should paint a portrait showing their forbidden love, I bet Master Antonio will love it. A canvas dyed in my special red paint to prove that their love will never fades for eternity. I am unsure if Sir Lovino would like the idea though since he looked quite displease every time I see him… _

_Clap._

"Sir Carriedo, your meal is ready." _I told my master. He looked over and smiles warmly, today; he is having a romantic dinner with Sir Lovino. The sunset is so beautiful from here; I bet all of my cat friends would love the scenery as much as I did. I excused myself presently afterward since I don't want to ruin their lovely dining experiment. Ahh, Master's Antonio home sure is beautiful. I should ask him to let my close cat friends from the forest to come visit this house sometimes… _

_On a different note, just a few days ago, Master Antonio gave me a personal studio to make lovely arts, how kind of him is he not? All day long, I can make beautiful paintings and be praised by my master. Of course, Sir Lovino must not know about this yet, since he is too young to comprehended and appreciate the arts. Another time then, I'm sure Sir Lovino would love my arts regardless._

_On a particular night, Sir Carriedo came back with Sir Lovino in his arms, unconscious and bleeding like a newborn. I grew concern for the wellbeing of his small little boy; he looked like a hurt kitten, like you, Miss Rosie, and I would never turn my back on a hurt kitten. Always act so tough on the outside, but Sir Lovino is loveable and fluffy on the inside, earnestly, it is funny how compatible in personalities you two are to each other._

"Come with me, Heracles, I need your assistance." _Master Antonio gently asks of me. Of course I would help._

"Yes, Sir Carriedo." _I responded, nonetheless. I follow him to his bedroom, oh, my; it is a magnificent work of art every time I see it, I couldn't have believed it with my own eyes. I design the interior of this bedroom, you like? Sir Lovino sure is lucky. _

"Sir Carriedo, you have to wrap the bandages like this." _I instruct him, he is just like a little kid, I swear. _"Otherwise they will come untangled by themselves."

"Ah, thank you." _Master Antonio laughs. He is so dense sometimes, but he is a very strong and thoughtful person. I looked up to him like a big brother since I've never had a brother. _

_Oh, before I forget it again, I was raised by cats. How senseless of me to never mention this beforehand… you see, the stork accidentally drop me off in a forest junction. Seeing how alone was I, the cats took me in and raise me as one of their own. You cats are such amazing creatures aren't you? They teach me everything I needed to know when I was just a little baby. This is why I am so useful to my dear Master Antonio, and I could not have been happier to be this much helps to him, he thinks of me like a little brother of his. And you thought I was insane when I told you that cats are my close friends._

_A week later, our ship was wrecked by a hoard of unknown men. I was worried that Master Antonio might get hurt, but thanks the gods, he is alright. I hate cleaning, I really do, and I'd rather play with you all day, Miss Rosie, since you're so cute and loveable. Oh gosh, there is so much cleaning to do, the ship looked rather attractive in the color red though… why waste such a beautiful canvas? The door to my left opens, it was difficult to tell who it is at first since his eyes blended to the red background._

"Hey watch him for me, will you? I need to shit. Bad." _Gilbert instructed, his red eyes shown discomfort and distressed._

"Sure…" _What a straightforward man, I would be so embarrassed to even utter some of his more mild choice of words. _

_His back turns over, facing me,_ "Oh, and, another thing, Heracles, 'you are to read his script and bring the character, Sanchos, to life in the performance at Reales Alcázares tomorrow. The Turk is unable to move, so give him a helping hand.' Captain's order."

"Yes, sir."_ I acknowledge the man. _

_Opening the door to the hold, all the way at the end, is the special Turkish captive my other ship mates were making a big fuss about on the upper deck. The burning candle lamp above cast a light over my side of the room, and his, is a dark void. As I approach him, he looked so lonesome and abandoned, a lost kitten, I could hear ocean water drips off of him; from head to toe he was drenched. He appears to be unconscious, and then looked up snappishly once he hears my footsteps coming nearby. Our eyes came in contact, the man smile fondly._

"How ironic, to be meeting you in a place like this. Though, I could already guess, you reeked of the blood of a savage beast." _Said the captive, chuckling, the rumbling in his throat is like a cat purring in delight. I stayed silent, after all, he is a captive, and I'm his watchman_. _After a moment of watching over the Turkish captive, the chained man allege in a soft voice,_ "… Hey, let's run. You and me, away from this wretched place." _He looks into my eyes for a respond. _

"To where?"_ I ask of him. The butler of the Carriedo's household never travel anywhere outside of Seville before, it sounds unsafe out there._

_He tilts his head to the side_. "Anywhere but here, in this hell hole."

"I cannot."

"Why the fuck not?" _He scoffed; I could feel his dark hawk eyes tightened in the darkness._

"Because."

_A mock._ "Go on, I insists."

"I like the cats here."

"… Oh heavens, what are you talking about?" _His lips a snickered, looking at me still in his dark shadow. The chains on his arms clanked against each other. Clink, clink, clink. He wanted to be free, to escape, to swim easily like a fish._

"They are friendly, and nice, and fluffy, and so soft." _It is true, cats are so cute, royal, and always come running into my arms. Who will feed the poor critters when I'm not there? I heard that royalties love to eat cats, they are a delicacy, I'm afraid so._

"That does not make any sense…" _He whispered, looking flabbergasted, as always. Silly Turks and their strange reactions._

"… Tomorrow. Tomorrow. When the sun sets, under the moon. I promise." _I stayed silent, after all, he is a captive, and I'm his watchman._

_Master Antonio told me I am to be a puppeteer helper for royal play today. And I did. It was so much fun talking to the palace guards and help decorating the sets. Miss Rosie, you can come with me, aren't you delighted? Hey girl, come, come; sit next to me here, it is the best seat in the theater… Oh, the show is about to start. _

"Ladies and gentleman, thank you so much for coming here to enjoy 'The Star of Seville', by Lope Felix de Vega Carpio, with me on this day. I hope that you all will be pleased and have a wonderful time here as much as I do since this piece is written by my favorite playwright. This show, today, is dedicated to you, my dear Antonio Fernandez Carriedo, thank you for your fearless bravery, for your contribution to Seville, for your immeasurable kindness, for everything. So without further ado, 'The Star of Seville' begins now, please excused me… "_ Infanta Maria Antonia Ferdinanda, her name is so hard to remember. But, she sounds like a nice lady._

_Once the announcer exempted himself, the play starts, the entire casts rise underneath me. It is so much fun being another character. The story is a delight, I tell you, if only my cat friends back in the forest are beside me and you right at this moment. They would try to mimic the actors and somehow make a happy ending of their own… Ah, this is the part where the villain, Sanchos, threw his dagger at the knight's companion. I pull the string. Fluhhh! A scream from Sir Lovino. All I could remember was the darkness. The colors from the outside of a broken window are the only light in this dark theater. The terrified yelps and startled faces of the running men and women in fine dresses and robes. Oh gosh, there is so much blood on Master Antonio. The knight removes the blade infuses in crimson away from his back and race toward the theater's stage with a sword in his hand. He raises his sword and challenges the villain to a duel, _"Halt your madness."_ Oh, this is the part where the villain asserts in an immoral voice,_ "Make me."_ Thus the climax of the story begins with their sword on each other's shadows._

_Master Antonio looks bold and spirited when he faces the intruder. I like it when my master fights; it is like watching him dance with a partner. Of course, I'm rooting for Master Antonio, he is a resilient nobleman, and he'll overcome any obstacle in his way to get what he wanted. An older brother, I admired. The silver of his sword against the intruder's dark blade was like firework sparks; a life to the night. The sounds of their blade sliding alongside each other, was like calming cat callings. _

_Meow. _

_Meow. _

_Meow._

_Left, right, up, down, aside, the villain handles his sword like a child play thing, making close, precise movements against the knight's waltz. In a flash, crimson scars tattooed themselves all over the villain's body, leaving him in a bloodlust stage where he is blinded by the red. The villain is losing the battle, as each droplets of blood left his body in rainwater. Dear, is it sunset already? The golden-brown light on window looked so stunning, strengthening the red paint bespattered all over the theater beneath me. At this point, I could not make out what is what before my eyes, all I could feel is their breathing pulsating in the dark. Red to the left, black to the right, a crash of two opposite colors trying to blend into one blurred over my eyes. The villain swipes his sword to his left side._

_I could hear Sir Lovino in the room on top of the theater, helplessly whispering, _"No…"_ Do not worry young sir, it is just a play, it will already be over before you realize it. The knight's face was calm as the ocean as he hid himself in the prospering blackness. I relaxed my ears, Master Antonio is singing in the shadow's darkness. The villain grinds his blade against the marble floor, oh good god, the noise is unbearable. There was a wind current; I briefly close my eyes again, following the melody my master creates and ignores the harsh tune from the villain. I pulled the strings in my left hand; my puppet jammed his sword to his right side... Oh dear, I am deeply sorry for that, Master Antonio. _

"_Tomorrow. Tomorrow. When the sun sets, under the moon. I promise."_

_And then._

_Light. _

_The villain is stooping on the ground and murmurs in his defeat, _"You are a sick bastard."_ Thus, the play ends here. The brave knight delivers the final blow swift and quickly so the villain can rest in peace, finally. He even bows at the overcome opponent in front of him. What a generous knight. I pulled the red blinds to a closing. The end of a beautiful performance._

_Come with me Miss Rosie, we shall be at the mansion when Master Antonio's carriage returns. The sky outside today is so pleasant and magnificent, the stars ahead are like buds of roses, and I could see a million of you. What a lucky man will I be if I had a million of cats like you, Miss Rosie? Once inside the servant's quarter, I played the part of a butler of the Carriedo's household. I love dressing up in these tuxedos; they are so soft and comfortable. Oh dear, Roderich is at the front door with Master Antonio's body in his arm, I must come help. Master Antonio is so reckless, why must he reach such great length to gain Sir Lovino's attention…? Look at him, lying on the bed in a bloody mess, breathing and coughing up red roses all over his body. Oh no, he is unconscious, the pretty actress around me panic and begins to mourns of his unexpected lifelessness. I came over to check his pulse, thank the gods, he is alright… _

… _Tomorrow came sooner than I thought, it is time to meet up with my lover, and we will elope. When the sun sets, under the moon…_

_Sadik once call me, a "Rayah", a name that denoted to the huge group of people, non-Muslims was they called, in the Ottoman's reigning period. A majority of the non-Muslims are, unfortunately, the people captured from the kingdom of Greece. For many endless years to come, Greece continue to be controlled by the Ottoman Empire, the people attempts to call for liberties of their motherland, but it was in hopelessness. After all, the strongest always prevails, and the weak perishes… It is not my fault that the Greek subdued their self to a far more superior kingdom because they wanted peace and protection. Who are you to judge them? And I am not of Greek descendant, I told him, I was raised by the cats in the forest. Miss Rosie, only you would understand me. Hey don't tease me, I am not blushing… What, you wanted me to tell you what I've been practicing the other day? Well… if it is you, I supposed so, since you are such a compassionate and helpful friend._

"Hey there, Sadik, did you know? Far, far back, the Greek thought that people were originally a creature with four long legs, four long arms, and a head with two different faces. Frightened of its unknown supremacies, Zeus divided the creature into two separate bodies, dooming them to devote their existence in pursuit of their other self… and… I think you are that other half of me…" _Oh good lord, how uncanny and tawdry is that? I could feel the heat on my cheeks from embarrassment. As I watched the sky festooned in shooting stars, the light emaciated through the dimness. It is almost dawn already. Where are you? I'm lonely, Miss Rosie._

"Did you not promise me? In that honest and hopeful smile, you would come and be with me. When the sun sets, under a moon…"_Where are you, oh Turkish man?_ _I sat on top of a boulder budded from under the sea, listening to the calmative waves hushed back and forth. After taking a sip of the salt water, Miss Rosie acknowledges me. Didn't you know, Miss Rosie? With a little cheeping tune of you; you were able to ease my unhappiness. _"It seems that he broke his promise, Miss Rosie." _Cats are so cute; they'll always keep their promise no matter what. After all, you must not trust the words of a captured prisoner. Good bye, oh unkind and untrustworthy Turkish man, I will now head back to the Carriedo's household where I am treasured and welcomed. Be with me, Miss Rosie, I am afraid that I am cursed with a cold from the devil._

_Morning came, I dressed myself in the black and white uniform, and after I'm done, I admire the handsome young man in the mirror; he looked so free and untroubled... Today, Sir Lovino's breakfast consist of sweet rolls and __lemon-flavored cupcakes__, and freshly grinned tomato juice. _

"Hello, Heracles, how are you today, sir?" _Said one of the maids passing by, in her hand is a black bag, dipping with the red nectar from the crimson roses._

"I am well, and you, Bella, would you like help with that?"_ I inquired, looking at the heavy sack in her hands._

"Oh, no, this job is way too easy for a maid." _She alleged, winking at me in her girlish charm. What a nice girl. Miss Rosie, I bet you would love her instantly._

_When the main bedroom is open, the first thing that caught my eyes is Master Antonio is lying on the bed; he was asleep like a kitten. And the young Italian sir is busily tying the blinds together to break free from Master Antonio's clutches once again. _"Sir Lovino, it is dangerous to always escape that way."

_Sir Lovino interest still on the knot he was having trouble with._ "Shut up, leave me alone..."

_I set the food tray down on top of the table and gather my breath._ "You know Sir Carriedo will always come and bring you back right, Sir Lovino?"_ I arose over and help him tied the disordered knot in place._

"… Let me leave." _Sir Lovino looked at me with his amber eyes, and begged, _"… Please"

_I patted his head._ "… Alright… off you go, do not forget that I warned you, please be careful, young sir." _Then he ran outside to the open balcony and jump carelessly to the open sky like a flying fish, laughing so. His adventures sure sounds fun, maybe I should joint one Sir Lovino's escape routes someday…_

_Master Antonio cleared his throat._

"Dear Heracles, have you taken care good care of him for me?"

"Yes, Sir Carriedo." _I bow at my master; he is always in such a hurry, it is alright though since he is so nice and kind. Master Antonio smile in his peaceful sleep and somehow, it makes me wanted to paint. He looks like an angel... Ah, speaking of which, Miss Rosie love her new home, and living with her is so enjoyable. She is a sweet girl, and gentle like my dear master._

_After closing the master's door gently, I head down to the garden, admiring the Amber Lilies. I stayed there for a while picking the best ones to put in Master Antonio's room. After some time of cavorting with the gorgeous flowers, I walk over to my room, also my art studio. There is a new puppet in there; he is to play the main villain in my upcoming drama. When I open the door, the smell of roses pierces through my nostril, what a pleasant scent. All the way at the end left corner, is the puppet, against the walls, his pale flesh illuminate the darkness inside my studio, the colorless strings from the play of last week still connected to his body. Thoughtless antagonist, the performance is over, stop pretending to be a villain. I carved out a beautiful mask from his wooden face to give as a present for Master Antonio. I bet he would love it. I stand still in my room and appreciate the puppet's handsome face mask. The red roses decorated on his face were so… endearing… charismatic… spirited… Drip... drip... drip... Oh dear, why this there ocean water on my face? How can I presence myself to Master Antonio with these unfriendly blue paint strokes on my face? Silly Miss Rosie, this is not the time to play with me. Another time, another time, I promise. _

_I am afraid my master is calling me. Oh my, Sir Lovino is unconscious in Master Antonio arms, I must help him; again._

_Farewell, Miss Rosie._


	5. The Smell of Sunflowers

_**Warning**_: This chapter contains gore, and some disturbing scenes, please keep in mind that this is fiction. :)

* * *

Chapter 5: The Smell of Sunflowers

_Running._

He was running.

He did not know that he could run so recklessly like that, but he did, he was scared out of his mind, he was at a lost. Behind him appears to be hands, hundreds, thousands of them crawling in the darkness. They wanted him. There are eyes on the hands, watching him, inspecting him, hungry for him. He let out a small inaudible shriek when he trips over something, fright overtaken him, engulfing him, consuming him. Beneath him, a dark hole appears out of nowhere and swallowed him whole.

Falling.

He was falling.

The black whole is a bottomless pit, an uncontrolled mess, he screams the entire time, tears after tears after tears dribbled and showered all over the hollow space around him. A flash of red. Then, at the end of the black pit, piercing eyes, and the arms from earlier are all spread out, waiting to catch him…

Lovino woke up with a panic startled; his face broke out in scared sweats. His eyes are bloodshot from the terror shaken him in his nightmare, his breath was light and fast. _Hah, hah, hah…!... What the hell was that…? Shit, shit… where is I…? _He raises his right hand and wipes away the sweat on his temple, looking to his left; his reality came back to him, taunting him. There is the damned knight, sleeping like a dead man and that same irritating smile of his feasts over his horrid, worriless face. _How can he look so calm all the time?_

Lovino's heart still bangs loudly in his ears from the bizarre dream of his, at times like this, his young brother would calm him down with his childish ramblings and grandfather would rushes to heat up fresh milk brought from their neighbor. They would stay by his bed until he cools down from a nightmare or after a particular hard day tending the queen's needs. After Lovino composures return back to normal, Feliciano would take out a mandolin, a gift from their decreased mother, and sing a silly song he made up, Grandpa Roma would laughs and joins in with him…

…_I need to see Feliciano and Grandpa Roma…_

Lovino quietly gets up and tore off the silk blinds. Seriously, the knight could sleep through an earthquake. Now, the ends connect here... shit, his hands started to shake frenziedly for no apparent reason… that damned dream... He was too busy on the important task at hand to notice that the door creaked opens with a soft rasp.

"Sir Lovino, it is dangerous to always escape that way." The knight's personal butler, _Heracles, _stands by the door way with some revolting Spanish breakfast in his hands. _Oh great, the good old butler is here to teach me life lessons at the peaked of dawn. How nice of him… _

Lovino ignored the man and without a care, continued on his mission. "Shut up, leave me alone..." _Damn, why doesn't the knot stayed in place… This is not my day, isn't it?_

Heracles set the metal tray down on top of the table and walks over to Lovino. "You know Sir Carriedo will always come and bring you back right, Sir Lovino?"He gently tabs on the Italian's hand and got a hold of the ends of the blinds and tied a perfect knot.

A somber expression spread over Lovino's face, "… Let me leave." And added a soft,"… Please." _I need to see Feliciano and Grandpa Roma, even if it just a tiny fraction of a second. I'm scared, terrified, I'm lonely, I feel helpless; you understand where I'm coming from, right Heracles…? I will be gone just for a while, I'll be here once the knight awake. Please… please, I just need to see them…_

The boy could felt a soft hand caressing his head, "… Alright… off you go, do not forget that I warned you, please be careful, young sir." Lovino look at the butler with a thankful gaze and then takes the connected blinds with him, away to the open patio he went; never once eyeing his back. After successfully tying the long blind to a stone post, a flow of enthusiasm begins to forms in his stomach, he is free for now. He let out a careless laugh when a wind current hit him, he couldn't help it, the wind felt so good against his skin, he felt like he could fly. _I'll see you later, stupid knight._

It was barely the tip of the endless night, the morning fog was fresh and cool against Lovino's face. After a long walk across the town of Seville, he decided to skip the short cut to his house, the dark corridor that brought back some unwanted memories with the green eyed man. The route to his left was a bit far, but he could manage somehow. The peaceful blue colors of the nice houses here are so calming and beautiful, unlike his embarrassing rundown shack. The shops and stands are all close; there are cats in hiding and parading around the street, on top of the food stands, under the empty wooden barrels, next to the public fountain, within the plants, between the flower pots, everywhere. The cats are watching Lovino's passing person with their yellow eyes. There are many houses with candles still on, the light glimmer against their sealed windows. "… … …" Lovino could hear a faint sound of somebody calling out something in the distant, but decided to ignore it, probably a dog barking or the wind whistling. He closes his amber eyes and relishes a stream of wind passing through the empty street. The crickets hum silently in their dark corner, enjoying the smallest bit of darkness before morning came.

Quiet.

His walk was long.

Very long.

And quiet.

Very quiet.

Silent…

_Bang!_

Lovino's eyes widened, the pit of stomach clenches tightly, his face distraught and grave, his thoughts run wild. There shouldn't be a gun shot at this time in the morning, the animals are in in their nests, the fearful plants are hiding with their petals closed, there was never a fight broke out because the civilians here are peaceful and happy. The whole town was asleep, the night is still around, and the light hasn't shine through the darkness… Except, Feliciano and Grandpa Roma love doing morning walks around town at this time of the night. Lovino's instinct told him to run toward that awful gunshot. His heartbeat begins picking up; his mind was still in confusion, hope loitered in his eyes, denial still irked over him… until he heard a sound from the time teller. The lantern in his hand twinkles on and off because of his hysterical drive though the quiet street corner.

"The British are coming! The British are coming!"

Lovino let out a slight disbelief gasp... _What?_ His heart begins to beat in an unharmonious rhythm. Bathump. Bathump. Bathump. He picks up his speed and rush to the left end corner, a fearful drop of sweat spilled over his temple. _I'm close, so close, almost there, please be alright Feliciano and Grandpa Roma._ When Lovino sees his young brother's standing form, he let out a relieved sign. _Thank god._

Except.

Feliciano's façade was white as a sheet of colorless wallpaper, his innocence eyes were bloodshot red, horror sickened over him. The boy tries to pry open his dry lips to say something to Lovino, his eyes pleading his older brother to stay away. Go. Run away. Now. Lovino ignored the voice in his head, he approach his little brother with an abysmal gaze. _Feliciano, what is happening? What is going on around here… Where is Grandpa Roma?_

"Feli…" Before their hands could touch, before words exchange, before Lovino could ask his younger brother what is wrong, a bullet got to the small boy before he could. The black bullet pierce through Feliciano's lower stomach, the reds from within him shattered all over Lovino's face. _Feliciano's blood… like little water crystals. His blood. His blood…_

"Feliciano!" Lovino let out a frightful yell, his young brother was just fine just a few second ago. The peaceful thought he had it just now, Feliciano's smiling face and Grandpa Roma's worrisome concerns … everything, crushed into this horrible delusion. The older brother rushes out of the dark corner and kneel beside Feliciano's frozen body, he turn him over and check his breathing. _Oh, thank the lord, he is still alive._ Before him are villagers, covers in wounds and reds as they lay lifelessly in the dark corners away from his house. Like dolls, emotionless and faces blank of expressions. Grandpa Roma was out cold and his body motionless, laying on top of the dirt ground before him. Lovino gets up to walk over to Grandpa Roma. _No…_

Bang!

A bullet landed just a few inches away from his feet, fresh smoke ignites from the burnt hole. Lovino lands on the ground with a surprised face. In front of Lovino are soldiers, dressed in red military coats, high hats, and white pants. With their guns held tightly in their arms, and their daggers on their hips. One of the soldiers was carrying a flag of the United Kingdom of Great Britain, the bloodshot cross trident of Saint George, the edges lined in pure white line, joined on top of a navy color background. The man stood at the front was pointing his loaded gun at Lovino, a small mist slinks out of his gun. Lovino's lips thinning when he hears a soft_ 'click'_. The man aimed his gun at Lovino's left side and purposely misses his shot at a vital region. _Bang. _Then, the man's next target is at his right upper arm, the scarlet from the bullet shot slits through his skin like a knife. Lovino bite his lips, he felt so useless. Here he is, scared out of his mind, and being played with like a doll. He glances at his wounded young brother and grandfather. _Feliciano and Grandpa Roma…_ Something snapped inside of Lovino, his stomach was on fire, his amber eyes darkened. _I cannot fight, but I will take you down with me._ With hands pushing his own body upward, Lovino lowered his head, shot up, and charged right into the man.

The man, in reflexes, let out small pained yelps and kicks Lovino's stomach. The Italian was stubborn, he held in the aching on him. With all of his might, he gathered his right hand into a fist. Then, Lovino punches the man's face dead on; he releases all the anger, the hate, the fear inside of him. Bam! A white teeth felt out from his red mouth. Lovino smirked, '_serve you right, you little bitch.'_

The man was at a lost at this frail looking boy, he wipes the bitter iron water away from his lips. After seeing the crimson color on his white gloved hand, he whinnied, _enough._ Using the back end of his gun, he smacks it against Lovino's face. The Italian was knocked down from where he stood fighting proudly, his behind smashed against the ground. The man said something in English, probably a cuss, as he glared at Lovino.

Then, the third time, the man pointed his gun on his forehead.

Fright soaked down Lovino's face in a stream, the terror feel scorching hot against his skin, unlike his nightmare from earlier, this is his reality, it is real, the fears are real, the pains are real, and there are neither Feliciano nor Grandpa Roma there to comfort him. It is true, he was a coward, he was afraid of new things, of his own demise, but more importantly, he was afraid of losing his only family. Then, Lovino remembered the promise he had with the butler, Heracles, about how he will return before the damned knight woke up from his slumber… _What will happen to him…? _And then finally, the damned knight himself, who always wearing the same irritating smile of his, without a care in the world, and his emerald eyes, proud and full of confident, so sure of himself. A person who manages to see Lovino's worse of side, his vulnerability, his insecurities, his awkwardness, his curiosity of the world… well, technically, it is all the knight's fault. Lovino remembered the time when the damned knight picked him out of everybody inside the podium, locking him up inside his mansion, the green eyed man inside the dark alley, the feast on the balcony, the play inside the palace… everything was happening too fast for his liking… and… and… the knight was always there, besides him, protecting him, listening to his silent calling for help. Like rescuing a helplessly trapped princess from a terrifying monster… is there anybody here? _I am alone, my dear brother and grandfather… please help them… please god, I am never the one to beg, but… take my life instead of theirs. _Lovino was at a lost, confused, his head is a chaotic mess, in a haze. His throat dries as he stared at the gun pointed on top of his amber eyes. Then, panic begins to hit him. _I am going to die... No, not now. Not yet… Feliciano and Grandpa Roma! Not like this…_

With staggering closed eyes, without thinking, a blunt blurt; Lovino cried, "Antonio!"

"Shut up!" The man in front of him yelled, red was in his eyes. With his gun perfectly aimed, and ready, he fires his gun at the irksome boy. Lovino flinched, the darkness disbursed thoroughly before his vision.

Bang!

… _No..._

The bullet never came, his skull was still intact somehow, he is still conscious, and there is no red blood. He crack an eye open. The bullet pierces though the ground with a small hole just right behind his back. And then, red… no, crimson.

It is Antonio.

With his scarlet red uniform and holding a sharp blade implanted on the man's left side. His emerald eyes darkened upon seeing Lovino's petrified face covers in the blood of his younger brother's. His ever smiling red lips frown with solemnness.

"It is unfair to fire your gun at an unarmed opponent, sir." The knight stated, and then he removes his blade from the man's back with a swift slide of his hand. Once the sword was gone away from his body, the man bites his lips, drawing blood, his pride stops him from screaming in agony. He covers the deep wound with his red-stained, white gloved hand, puncturing the crimson skin to stop the blood from gushing out of his body. The man was ashamed of his current situation. _Where's this bastard comes from? Who is he?_ More importantly, how did he manage to sneak up on him like that without anybody noticing his presence?_ Another time, I swear to god, I will kill you… _

The man duck himself away from Antonio, some of his men rushes over to help him. Antonio move to stand in front of Lovino, with cautious eyes and pointed his sword at the soldiers. His emerald eyes were as cold as winter snow, observing the men standing before him, searching and analyzing their strength. He smiles. _Just a bunch of weaklings._ Antonio signaled his men to come over to help aid Lovino, Feliciano, Grandpa Roma, and the other villagers to a safe place. When a helper approaches Lovino, he raises his hand and say, "No need, please look after my young brother and grandfather." He takes the aid box from the helper and then supports himself to sit in a corner. After he is done with sealing the wound on his upper right arm with the necessities from the box, he notices that the soldiers are still there. And Antonio still looks at them with his emerald eyes. _Shit… what is going on? What do they want? Why are they still here?_

"… Al!" The injured man called, slowly backing away into the crowd of his supporters. The smell of sunflowers.

A soldier step forward from the group of men, his light cerulean eyes and pale golden hair shined through the haunting dusk in the night. His face was bright with optimism, an air of confident, of certaintly shined from within himself. The man adjust his glasses, the knight's person shown briefly on the reflection. He look like a hero.

The soldier grins politely, and begins speaking in Spanish, "Greetings, I hereby challenge you to a duel. Will you accept my offer… sir?"

"My pleasure." Antonio replied, his emerald eyes dilution, he beamed at the soldier. The soldier seemed to be worthy of an opponent; he seemed strong, very strong. Antonio like that.

"Ah, alright then… I see that you are not carrying a gun yourself…" The blonde soldier remarked, looking at Antonio's blade rusting in the stilled blackness.

The knight answers steadily, "No need."

"Well then, I suggest we do things a different way?" His blue eyes laugh in the dark before Antonio.

"Most certainly, dear sir." Antonio countered.

"How about… if you manage to dodge three of my bullets, you win, we will retreat." He proposed, he held up his gun smugly, and stroke tenderly like how he treats a lady.

"What if you win?" The knight enquired.

"Ah, we will discuss that once you have failed my test of course." The soldier urged, trying enticed Antonio into his sweet proposition.

"Sounds like a good deal. When shall we start?" Antonio asked, looking at the blue eyed man.

The soldier raises his gun and fire a quick shot. Antonio dodged to the right with effortless, agile step. "Now, of course."

The soldier obscured himself behind the wall of emptied rainwater cask. His blue eyes scanned the surrounding, noting every bit of corners and turns beforehand, the hunt is on, anticipation built up in his stomach. As each seconds spiked by, the air becomes dense and profuse. The soldier follows the knight's breathing in the darkness. There. The knight tries to trick the soldier that he is on the left by gently touching the bottom of a flower pot using his sword's tip. But. His light breathing is on the right end corner. The soldier's blue eyes narrowed in amusement as he fired the second shot. _Bang._ Ah, too bad, he got the end of the knight's cape instead. So close. He could felt the knight's amazed breath at the impact from the bullet. Escalated, the soldier closes his eyes and enjoyed the light breathing from the knight. _Hah, hah, hah…_ The soldier smirks when he pin point the knight's exact location, he is close. To the right. _Bang._ He could hear the knight's hitched, shock breath in the darkness as the bullet pierced through his flesh, his heart. _I win._

The soldier lowered his gun; a triumph grin leered over his arrogant blue eyes. Then, all of the sudden, an interruption, a hum pulsate in the dim darkness before him. It felt like someone was dancing. The wind whirled around him away and then inward. He could feel movements; the wind changes its current. Round, and round, and round, and round. It was a beautiful waltz. So beautiful, it felt like he is being lured into night, a dream-like trance aroused before him, it was like he is being ensnared into slumbering with the tender swaying of the wind. He was enjoying a great time with an elegant woman wearing a scarlet dress. Her touches are made out of feathers and skin so soft and silky under his fingertips. And then, he could feel a light caress of gust against his feet, his whole body was light was a flower.

At the end of the knight's dance, the bright morning light peaked through his dark shadow, unveiling himself before the group of British shoulders. The men retreats, trying to hide back inside the darkness, their safe heaven. Of each of the standing soldiers, there are limps missing from them. Some with their fingers gone, some an arm, the others' feet misplaced, disappeared. The quiet British soldiers then gathered together, helping one another to withdrawal back to their secret base. The invasion of Seville is a complete failure. The battle with the knight is over. They have roused from their victorious hallucination.

They have lost.

A ghostly whisper. "M…l… Ca…" The blonde soldier's face was as white, it was almost as if his skin is masked by make up powder as he took off, passing Lovino with an ethereal air spread throughout his whole body, his foot stumbling in his own crimson blood. There was a crack on his glasses.

Antonio put his blade black inside the scabbard beside his hips and turns to the corner where Lovino is resting on.

"How are you feeling, Lovino?" Antonio inquired, glancing at the crimson red sopping through the white bandage around boy's upper right hand. "Can you stand?" He extends out his left hand.

Lovino ignored the knight's offering and try to lift his person upward. The boy's foot stumbled a bit, Antonio caught his weak body, his knees submit to the terror rooted inside his head. _No use, damn._ Antonio laughs at the boy's clumsiness and decided to carry him, bridal style, back to their safe and welcoming home.

The day have begins. The sun finally peaked over the tall clouds above, beaming its light over the town of Seville. The people begin greeting one another with a smile and busily try to open and loaded their shops with attractive and appealing sweets before the sunlight hit them. The flowers and plants unseal their petals and leaves, laughing joyously at another peaceful day. Noises from happy villager begin giving life to the sleeping town. The cats from the night before are gone, only their footsteps imprinted on the full, crowded street here and there. Antonio decided to choose another route to give Lovino some privacy; an injured male should never show himself in public.

After a while of walking through the deserted pathway, and drinking in the scenery before him, Lovino ask in a low voice, "How are Feliciano and Grandpa Roma…?"

Antonio looked down at the Italian. "They are in good hands, Lovino. They will be healed in no time, lucky for us, their wounds are not life threatening."

"… Are you mad at me?" Lovino questioned cautiously, looking at the green in Antonio's eyes.

"Somewhat." The knight answered flatly, and then his warm smile returns, "But I am glad that you are not harmed."

"Oh…" Lovino remarked, a pink flush over his face, he lowered his head, hiding his shame and embarrassment.

Antonio continued on. "You should rest, Lovino. I promise you, I shall inform Infanta Maria Antonia Ferdinanda of this incident." He looks over the boy in his arms, his emerald eyes softened at the picture.

Lovino was already asleep under the knight's assuring words. Antonio look at the blue sky ahead of him, the colors above reminds him of the calm ocean. When they arrive at his mansion, Antonio decided to walk through the back entrance; where there are no eyes watching Lovino's pained expression. With a phantom rasp, the door opens, the scent of fresh Amber Lilies infiltrate Antonio's senses; the flowers are already fully blossomed. He notices that his butler is standing inside his studio and calls for his help.

"Heracles, may I have your assistance for a bit?" He asks.

The butler opens the studio's door and answer, "You may, Sir Carriedo."

.

True to the knight's promise, he advise the queen of the event, of how the attack was strategically planned, it isn't something to be overlooked. The great country of Spain will now enter the war, officially; first, it will aid its partner, France, in an attack against one of Britain's strongest ally, Portugal, in the shore of Porto, the key to Britain's powerful naval power. A third of the guards and knights in the palace are to be transported to the sea on battleships on May the 1st of the upcoming week.

It was the day before Antonio leave for battle.

The knight's servants were just done packing his things for tomorrow's departure. After putting on his sleep robe, he sat on top of his bed, joining Lovino's exploration at the dark sky outside. Lovino's wound on his upper arm is healing nicely; it would be any time now before he could move his hand freely without any pain. Lovino signed, his one of hands grip onto window, watching the stars shine brightly above him. The murky sky remind him of the time when the girl with the golden hair told him of her secret love with another man... His amber eyes reflect a sad radiation off of him. Then, his thought shift to his young brother's horrified eyes and grandfather lying his own pool of blood...

"Lovino, I think you should rest for the day, no need to be distraught by my hasty leaving tomorrow." Antonio teased, almost laughing so.

"Shut up." The Italian boy restored, turning to walk over to the knight sitting on the bed. Antonio make some room for Lovino to sit next to him.

"What is wrong?" The knight examined, looking at the quiet boy next to him.

"Nothing." He answered, his amber eyes betrayed him.

"Feliciano's and Roma's injuries are taken care of; they have awakened three days ago." The knight response, smiling when he sees Lovino's eyes lit up at his words.

"Oh…" Lovino's voice crack, a wave of relieves washes over his young face.

Antonio move over and takes out a map and a master key inside the drawer next to his bed. He smile and handed the items to Lovino. The boy look puzzled at the objects in his hands. "… I also brought them a new house. It is a lovely home, you should see for yourself sometimes when I am to be away." Antonio mused, winking at the boy.

Lovino was speechless, at a lost for words, _how did he...?_ He manage to make a somewhat calm face as he looks the knight. "... Alright…" The boy said, quietly, embarrassed by the excitement in his tone, and added a small, "Thanks."He looks around for a safe place to store the map and key; finally, he comes into a conclusion and decided to put them under his pillow. Lovino accidentally brushes Antonio hand, his cheek heats up from the touch.

"Ah, sorry." He told the knight, and then retreats his nervous hand. Antonio got a hold of Lovino's hand, surprise at the touch, the boy look at him. Antonio was staring deeply into his amber eyes, Lovino's heart pick up, cheeks reddened, he never got used to the knight and his strange antics. Antonio drops his head to the side and slowly averts himself against Lovino's lips. His eyes look so vividly green from up close, the orbs slowly disappears behind his closing lids. The boy's heart thumps madly inside his chest, the knight was so close, so close, he could felt the heat of Antonio's breathing against his lip. Lovino shuts his eyes tightly when their lips meet in a chaste kiss, simple, but… yet, it took his breath away. Antonio pushes his body forward, deepening their innocence joint lips. He slowly moves away and requests in a small voice. "Won't you allow me to be with you like this one last time, Lovino?" The light from the burning candles next to them intensifies the emerald in his eyes.

"… Just kissing?" Lovino inquired, Antonio move his hands to strokes his face gently, and the boy closes his eyes at such modest touches.

"Yes, just like this, kissing, and nothing else." Antonio whispered. Lovino did not utter a word as the knight's lips return to his. His tongue caresses the boy's lower lips, asking, seeking for permission to grant him full access. Lovino parceled his lips; Antonio's tongue slowly slithers inside, tasting the boy heavy scent. The Italian grunts; feeling exposed under such kiss, and held onto the knight's shoulder for support.

Lovino slowly returns the tender kisses with shy, acknowledge movements. He felt heat, the lightness in his head, the warm strokes against his skin, everything of Antonio is his. The knight slowly settled himself in between Lovino's legs, his passion is slight, but is inebriating, it drugged his senses, and he needed more. More. More. More. Antonio part away from Lovino's lips, with a look into his amber eyes, he moves his search downward, to his neck, a weak point of the boy's. A lick. Lovino arched his back. Antonio grinned and continues teasing the same place, the place underneath Lovino's chin torturously, agonizingly slow. He felt a groan vibrating in his throat.

"I think we should stop here." Lovino's amber eyes told Antonio that he wanted him to continue on. The boy's face was red as roses, too nervous to retort a reply, he was afraid of his voice, of his divulging, impassioned body. Antonio slowly removes himself away from Lovino's , and flips the blanker over his body. Then, he turn over and blow out a sweltering candle light, with a smile, he dive under the blanket, resting himself next to the quiet boy. "Good night, Lovino."

A soft, inaudible voice allege in the dark, "Night."

.

In a short while, morning came unannounced, Lovino forcefully opens his eyes; the same light gleamed against his face. He got up and looks over to his right… _huh?_ The damned knight is gone. He got up from the bed and open the window, a gush of wind lightly settled on his face. Below, Antonio was standing by the gate, fully dressed in the same scarlet red uniform. His servants are busily packing things onto the cartridge; the proviso was glooming the stallion up front, the butler was checking if anything is missing, everybody was busily on task. Lovino opens the master bedroom's door, down the red staircase he went, through front door and out from behind is the knight and his crimson cape on his back. When Antonio spotted the boy, he gave him a warm wave of his hand. "Good morning, Lovino."

Antonio smile when he sees Lovino nodding his head. The boy decided to stand in the corner to see if he is of any help; after all, it is all that he could do, really. Some time passed, it seemed that Lovino's help is not necessary, the servants are done packing, the proviso is done with glooming the horse, and the butler check off everything that are needed for the knight's travel.

Antonio walks up to his butler, and told him, "Please take care of Lovino, Heracles." After all, a man never knows when his dog turns his back on him.

"I will, I promise, please have a safe journey, Sir Carriedo." The butler bows at his master.

After making sure everything is packed in place and nothing missing, the servants lined up in a single line and chant, "Decir adiós a alguien, Master Antonio Fernandez Carriedo, please return back soon!" Antonio dismisses his servant soon afterward with a grateful thank, wanting some privacy with his Italian lover. He smile and stride forth to the corner where Lovino hid himself. With laughing green eyes, Antonio remarks, "Hey, you look lonely."

"Leave me alone..." With defiant amber eyes, Lovino avoids his head to the side. Antonio grab on to the boy's chin and tilts it toward himself, with his red cap over them, he let his lips slide against Lovino in a quick kiss.

With one last look into his amber eyes, the knight whispered, "Good bye, pajarito." His emerald eyes lightened as he stared deeply into Lovino's expressive orbs.

"Why must you fight? Isn't it enough that you drove away those British soldiers...?" Lovino questioned, averting his gaze. It is true, Lovino hated war, because it will only bring griefs and misfortunes, in the end, both side are left with nothing. The knight doesn't seemed like a person who liked war, either, so... why... why...

"What? Already missing me? But I'm not leaving yet, darling." The knight joked, the green in his eyes darkened with amusement. Lovino glared at him. He paused and then said, "You do not know what I felt at this very moment, Lovino..." Lovino might have forgotten, but Antonio could remember every bit details of the incident with those British soldiers. Lovino's terrified gaze, his thin, white, lips, the red blood on his face, his painful cry for help, everything. Antonio wanted the British to pay back ten times as much anguish and fear they have done to Lovino.

_You are so young, and innocence, Lovino._ "I will be back. Soon, very soon. I promise." Antonio proclaimed, retreating his cape.

Stop.

_Don't leave me._ Before Lovino could reach out and hold him back, asking him to stay, to stop these painful good byes kisses, these words of partings, his green eyes shined with determination for revenge, he wanted none of that. Lovino just wanted to live another normal, peaceful day, to have none of these words and thoughts of bloodshed, of revenge, of war. _Don't go._ Lovino wanted to open his lips and say something, anything, to stop the knight. Anything. But, none came out, his throat dry, it was very dry and arid. Lovino could not think of a word to stop him. Why should the knight listen to him anyway? He can go and die off somewhere, and Lovino would be free. Then, Antonio disappears, vanish like dust. Like a gust of wind, leaving Lovino nothing else of his, and only his emerald eyes remains in his thoughts. Antonio was gone. His smile, his laughs, his green eyes, his auburn hair, his sun-kissed skin, his warmth, his soft touches… All traces of him unfound, he was gone, for good…

.

Three days have passed by what seems like snails racing each other, stubbornly refusing to give up. The everyday life in the mansion was back to normal, the servants are always on their toes, cleaning and looking after their master's things; making sure the house stayed the way it is once Antonio returns. As soon as their master was gone, Lovino was ignored and overlooked by the servants, he is invisible to them, and they paid him little to nothing of their attention. After all, who is the Italian anyway? Why should they respect him? Why should they look after him like he was some abandoned child? He is nothing… but they keep that to themselves, of course. The boy is to be fed three times a day, a bath prepares in the afternoon, and beds made for him at night... What more could he need? If he weren't Master Antonio's favorite bedwarmer then...

... Lovino opens his eyes; he had fallen asleep on top of the Amber Lilies in the knight's garden. _Where is everybody?_ He looks around, his surrounding, to the left, to the right, _nobody_. This house looks more like an abandoned inn than anything else. The only things that seemed to be alive are the orange flowers around him.

Jingle, jingle.

He felt eyes on him. Jingle, jingle. He turns over and faces two green eyes in the distant room. _Red fur and green eyes..._

A kitten was staring at Lovino inside the room ahead of him; the ringing noises came from the necklace to the animal's neck. That room. That odd room that nobody ever visits, he never once set a foot inside, not even the knight himself has. Lovino slyly looks around him, _nobody_, good…

Looking over to his left, he found lantern and then some matches next to it. Ffft… ffft… ffft… ah! There it is, the lighted candle inside the lantern felt so warm against his skin. Lovino slowly backed himself against the door and carefully closes the door with a slight scraping noise. And then, it was darkness, luckily, he was prepared beforehand, the light in the lantern flicker a bit under his movement. This place was strangely interesting; paintings, in reds and scarlet crimsons hanged neatly on top of each walls. Under a canvas to the right are paints from the lightest to the darkest colors, the shelf next to it contains paint brushes arranged from smallest to biggest. In the middle is a wooden table, a vase of Amber Lilies sat on top. There were scrolls and scrolls of papers on the left probably some maps or something. The whole back was covered in cat dolls. Oh, there is the kitten from earlier. Lovino kneel down on the ground, set the lantern next to him, and then make a hand gesture at the small kitten.

"Come here, girl, I won't bite… come on, come on…" Lovino persuade. The kitten was hesitant at first; she slowly walks over to the Italian boy with cautious eyes, taking small steps back and forth. Upon coming in contact with Lovino, the kitten sniffs his hand and gives it a small like. With an approve, "Meow." Lovino gently strokes the kitten's chin. The cat purr in delight under such Lovino's caring touches.

_Drip._

There was a faint sound of water falling underneath him. It is small but Lovino could hear it.

_Drip._

… Huh?

That's weird. Lovino knocks on the marble floor with his right hand. It felt weird. Like something akin to a hollow space… Feliciano's curiosity finally rubs off on him. He follow suit a trail in front of him. Tap. Tap. Tap... Thunk!... Thunk!... Thunk! There is a hidden door covered by the stuffed cat dolls. Key, I need a key.

Jingle, jingle. The kitten follow suit behind Lovino's moving form and then when he stop, the animal licks his left hand.

"Ah, here is it… hey girl, you don't mind if I borrow the key on your neck? For just a bit, I swear." Lovino coed, the kitten looks at him with interested eyes as he removes the key pendant away from her neck. _Click. _It worked. He turns to walk over to take the lantern sitting on top of the marble floor. With a deep breath, he headed into the dark passage from behind the unlocked door. And then down the underground path he went. He passes stairs after starts after stairs. Up ahead of Lovino stood a wooden door, his hand touches the doorknob. _It is unlocked_. When the door discloses, Lovino gulped, what could it be behind this door?

_Drip._

Something landed on his face, he wipe it away and then look at the strange substance his hand.

_Red._

Lovino look up with the lantern close to him, and then a surprise gasp escapes his shocked lips. On top of him, hanged a body… a body with no face…

There were people, like butterfies, dangled on the ceiling; blood was dripping down their faces. A flood of crimson red paint. There were more people discarded on the left and right. A body drops down from above like a raindrop, his face unclear of pain and sensation. Lovino face grew pale, a deadly white, pasty color, like a lifeless moon. He slowly pushes the door from his back open and walked out of the dark passage. His right hand started shaking hysterically, the light inside the lantern wavered on and off… the image of red people without their faces burn inside his mind. After getting out of the dark passage and secure the lock, Lovino returns back the necklace borrowing from the kitten. He blow out the candle inside of the lantern and put it back to where he took it. _Ha… this is just another creepy nightmare; soon, I'll be awakened in no time. That bastard knight will come and bothers me with his usual strange talk of love._

At the last of his step, before the door closes in behind him, Lovino could hear the green eyed kitten bit him a good bye. Jingle, jingle.

"Meow."


	6. Clytie

_**Author's Note**_: Sorry for not updating for a long time, here's a very long chapter.

* * *

**Chapter 6**: Clytie

Tick. Tock. Tick. Tock. Tick. Tock.

The many divergent melancholies of oranges on the open sky are like a field of thriving Amber Lilies. As the ruby color sun depressed over the distance mountain, a fortress was within sight, bare by the intense yellow lights fallen on the stone walls. The fortress is an elaborate web filled traps and wandering soldiers on guard. A shadow of a knight was spotted disguising as a common soldier, an intruder he is. His emerald eyes perusing and probing for an opening, a fragile point, a trifling flaw. False doors and gateways, but there is only one route, the one on the left... The disseminated rays of sunlight could no longer fights against the authoritative darkness in the night's existence. The nightfall's wind loitered around the knight; his Italian lover's scent dawdled in the cool mist against his skin. There was not a sight of soldiers in the derelict pathway; they try to divert spies' intrusive eyes away from the obvious. The path that let to Allistor Kirkland's chamber. The lanterns' light glints alarmingly when his body passes by them, he dislikes the luminosities of lights when doing unclean, uncouth deeds like this.

Tick. Tock. Tick. Tock. Tick. Tock.

As the knight walk toward the chamber with unruffled, tranquil green eyes, he could hear quiet hoots of footsteps straggling after him. Step. Step. Step. The smell of sunflowers reaches the knight's nostril. The man decided to stop his unobtrusive pace toward the chamber. The sword hung on his back rustled lazily at his stopped body. The noiseless steps behind him terminate. "I am looking for a man name Allistor Kirkland and you are not him. Please retreat your steps, good sir, for you and I have neither business nor enquiries with one another." With a glance at his back, the knight narrowed his emerald eyes. It was a fellow soldier. With striking cobalt eyes and hair as fair as the sinking golden sun. Some of his toes are missing from their fight of that stilled night, the dawn of the British's invasion. He dodged his blows, still an honorable standing gentleman, with unbroken blue eyes. The knight's face shown admiration for the British soldier standing before him.

_This soldier is no ordinary person._

The soldier guffawed at the knight's awed eyes on his person, with a composed face he states, "I know who you are."

"Yes, I am just a lowly knight." The knight replied, almost a laugh escape his lips, but restrained himself, he is but a caught spy. He turns his body completely over to make eye contact with the soldier on his track, urging him to continue.

The soldier accepts his invite and said in a low, faint murmur, keeping his identity a small hush to himself. "… Mil-Cara…"

"I do not know what you speak of, dear sir, as I am only an incompetent man." The knight countered, cocking his head to the side at the soldier's comment.

"… A man who lived a thousand lie…" The soldier breathed, unthreading his sword from the scabbard behind his back. "The name's Alfred F. Jones. It is a pleasure to meet you." The knight's emerald eyes shown in the reflection of the soldier's sharp, erect blade.

"Why did you not use your gun against me? If I were you, I would have ended my opponent's life with just one bullet pierce right through his heart." Said the knight; eyeing the sleeping gun beside the empty sheath behind the soldier's back.

"I would not be as much fun as I imagined…blames my British's heritage." The soldier chucked; the rich noise rumbling inside his throat was full of self-confident and enthusiasm. He was a young soldier, around the knight's age.

"Heh… you sound more like an American to me." The knight remarked, drawing his old sword, with a smooth grip on the handle, he pointed his blade at the soldier. Like wind currents, they both disappears from sight, blending themselves into the many shadows and shades within the deserted pathway. Their fight was as quiet and allayed as it can be. This is their dirty little secret after all, an unheard ceremony, a private affair between two people. Whistle tender and poignant of swords sauntering and swanning against one another. If anything, it is the false calling in the swaying wind that the other guards are hearing. Tick. Tock. Tick. Tock. Tick. Tock.

At a point, their movements on the soldier's sword reflection was seen, the knight manage to cut a few fair hair off of the soldier's head. The soldier bites his dark lips upon seeing the falling blonde strands. _Tch_. He raises his right hand and knocks the knight's sword away. A scarlet scratch quickly forms and reds burst out of his perfect porcelain skin. _Drip. Blood…_ The soldier hated the color red, the color of the innocence's blood spilled, the color of fighting in another's war, of false hope, of untruthful freedom, of death. The soldier was going to strike the knight on his face, but stopped, since he does not wish to know the identity of his strong opponent._ A man always has shames and secrets, let him keep them for life, if possible. _The soldier altered the blade into his left hand, his best hand, and swing with all of his might. He really dislike the color red, the foul odor of the blood of another being was horrendous… A wound stamped across the knight's neck, the left side, close to his vocal cord. _Almost_. The soldier almost cringed at such a sight, but kept a calm face to himself. The wavering lights from the lanterns around them move along with their frenzied waltz. _Swoosh…_ The soldier stands in the burning lights as much of a chance as he could muster; his advantage, spots where he could see through the obscure darkness, the knight's movements. He is fast. So fast. Like lightning strokes. Like wind… _To the right._ _Fffulll…!_ Behind the knight's shoulder, another inflamed lash of red damage appears.

_Drip… Drip… Drip… Drip… Drip… Drip… Drip…_

The knight could see the soldier on his side, the darkness, but could barely come close to his daring standing form in the light. They both have lost so much blood from their battle against each other. Tick. Tock. Tick. Tock. Tick. Tock. His time is running out. The smell of sunflowers speckled all around the knight, he closes his eyes, and savors in the addicting scent of the soldier's.

_Clytie.._.

A carefree nymph of the ocean floor, Clytie, whose weak heart was bewitched by the dashingly handsome and merciless god of the sun, Helius. He left her for another lover, a rare beauty, Leucothea, a sea goddess. Clytie, who wanted to win back the love of the callous sun god, stripped herself bare skin and sat unclothed as a newborn on a cliff of a rock, hoping for a miracle to happen. She did not drink or eat for nine days and nights, waiting, waiting, and waiting… gazing at the bright beaming sun of her once former lover and grieves for his arrival to reunite and mend their old, broken bond. On the ninth day, she was malformed into a sunflower, forever facing the sun, with head held high, achingly watching and grieving at Helius' yellow chariot burning brightly on the blue, vacant sky…

The knight adjusts his blade and switches it over to his right hand. _Playtime's over_. His emerald eyes darkened and like a current of wind, whirled and twirled, into a tornado. Then. All around the soldier's body; exposed cuts and gashes embedded themselves on him so deep, so perfectly in the same size and color, and… the red, wetting his uniform like water against sand, washing away the defeat and the disgrace on him. The trembling candles' lights in the lanterns along the empty pathway finally all faded out, and all that left is the persistent blistering enflamed black stems all the way at the bottom.

The soldier lies limply by a lifeless light, appreciating the white and silver of stars on the gloomy sky above him. "Why did you not ended my life? Am I that weak? That unworthy?"

"I felt like I should not violate such a beautiful sunflower, my heart tells me to let you wait for Helius' arrival..." The knight commented, admiring the pleasant scent clinging on the soldier's. "You have the same eyes as him." _Bold. Defiant. Proud. _"As I told you before, Sir Jones, I am looking for a man name Allistor Kirkland, and you are not him."

The soldier only laughs at the odd knight. "After all of this insanity is over, I will travel to the land of America, I heard they have good bourbons over there." The knight withdrawal his sword and placed it inside the sheath behind his back. With a respectful bow at the soldier by the dead lantern light, he went on his way, to the chamber of Allistor Kirkland.

… Ah, there he is. Found him. He is slumbering like an infant. _How cute_.

Tick… Tock… Tick…

_The assault on the city of Porto, the hold of Britain's supremacy, emanated to a cessation since the Spanish did not apprehend the complications of the kingdom to be navigated through. An additional interval was affected by the circumstance that a large majority of Spanish's soldiers are situated in the city of Zamora, anticipated for the attack of the neighboring Almeida. It is said that the troops were stopped by the swamped River Esla, of which, the soldiers cannot go through, and awaited for a link of sort to be placed across the fast moving stream. The Spanish's collaborator, France, directed some 12,000 men in their country over, however, the group stood annihilated by illness, and were by no means be of help on the battleground; since their relationships with the kingdom of Spain were problematic to begin with. On the 15__th__ of August, the Marquis' of Sarria misses valuable time and money, and was soon taken over by the Count of Aranda. This postponement provided the British with the upper advantage, the spell carry over five squadrons under the command of John Campbell, a great general; from the isle of Belle-Ile off the seashore of France's. In the 3__rd__ week of July, the group reached to Lisbon. Further into the month of August, the newly Spanish general who upsurge himself to power, Conde de Aranda, travel over the great Côa river, and situated his men in Castelo the 25__th__ of August, he beleaguered, then acquired the crucial boundary stronghold of the city of Almeida. Count of Schaumburg, Lippe, a brilliant general appointed by Marquis of Pombal, had an absolute in mind in which he would liberate the burden of the ongoing tensions in Almeida and Porto by establishing a surprise attack against the Spanish._

_An assigned group under the hand of John Burgoyne's lead, joined and reinforced by a generous amount of Portuguese's army unit, traversed across the Tagus, and then in the 27__th__ of August, invaded and taken Valencia de Alcántara, a city of Spain, in a surprise attack. The united army under Great Britain, unoccupied all of the Spanish's soldiers within their sight, and captures a large amount of hostages, which comprises a general of Spain and only will he be release in exchange of a year worth of monies compensated in crops. This conquest elevated Portuguese' men's self-confidence, and for the hero Burgoyne, he was rewarded a rare gem. Afterward, Lippe arranged a defensive force alongside the Zêzere River, and then given up all of summer learning Spain's locations and plan strategized defenses in case if they went against his army in hateful revenge. Lippe was able to block off the Spain's soldiers from voyage over the Vila Velha de Ródão's Tagus. On the 7__th__ of October, Burgoyne overwhelmed the Spanish army force in the bloody Battle of Vila Velha, and then securely traversed over the river of Tagus once again. On the 24__th__ of November, the Count of Aranda conversant of Lippe that harmony inceptions had been agree upon, representatives from both sides confronts and a truce settled. The Portuguese and Great Britain had victory by skillful rallies and defensive forces, on the other hand the Spanish, though enormously grander in soldiers, remained continuously antagonized by protectors in a safe station, and, of course, they were not ever ventured to attack in an all-or-nothing unit invasion…_

Morning came, all of the lively colors finally felt from the sky, and as soon as a yellow color touches Lovino on his face; his amber eyes awaken. He lifts the bed's blanket off of his body, rises from the soft mattress, stretches his free hands and yawned. His reality slowly sinks back to him, he begins to differentiate the unmoving colors before him, his mind gradually rolls back to a tranquil and quiet state. It has been a while, days, weeks, months… since that dream. The red, faceless people in that underground chamber still branded inside Lovino's mind. It was still so fresh, so terrifying, so shocking… so real. He still couldn't believe his own eyes. What does his dream mean? Who are they? Why are they there? He never once remembers encountering any of those featureless people … _how silly, there is no such thing…_ Maybe he was seeing things; seeing as how he was alone inside the knight's mansion; maybe being unaccompanied brought mirage to him, these obscene nightmares he's having… being by himself is such a scary thing… _It's kind of lonesome without the knight here…_ Lovino twitched slightly at such repulsive thought and soundlessly waited for the knight's butler to deliver him his morning meal.

_Knock. Knock. _"Sir Lovino, are awake? Your meal is here." Heracles' voice finally broke through the silent.

"Come in." Lovino answered, keeping a cool composure to himself, still asleep within his thought of his nightmare. _Click, creakkk._ His eyes lit up when he sees what is on the metal plate in the butler's hand: Biscotti, croissant-like pastries, soft-boiled eggs, and orange juice.

The butler smile politely, walks over to the bed and places the silver tray on Lovino's lap. "How are you today, Sir Lovino?"

"Uh." Lovino responded with a small sound, drool slowly sneaks up on his mouth. It has been too long for him to see these magnificent Italian breakfast foods. "Thanks." The butler stood by the bed to see if Lovino needed anything, giving the boy some space and avoid his eyes toward the glass window.

"Hey… Heracles." Lovino addresses the butler, after finishing the last bite of a soft-boiled egg.

The butler looks over to the boy next to him and bow slightly, "Yes, is there anything you need, young sir?"

"Can I visit my grandfather and brother?" He asks; making eyes contact with the taller man.

"Of course." The butler countered, taking the empty food tray away from Lovino's lap. "Allow me to escort you there."

After the butler leaves to prepare a carriage for Lovino, the Italian then proceeds to cleanse and dress himself up. Upon finishing covering up in the knight's clothes for him, he headed out of the master bedroom and down the same, long, red staircase he went. _Nobody_. As usual. It's like people just walked passed through him, without sparing him a glace, and then give him weird looks behind his back. The Italian scoffed, feeling somewhat offended by the sudden abandonment and cold shoulders. What did he do to deserve this treatment? Sure he was rude and says whatever he felt like, escapes out of the knight's home without consent, and makes a big ruckus… Lovino held in distressing outbreak and decided to stop… _Everybody._ Except for the butler, Heracles, who tended his needs, and sometimes that pretty blonde maid, Belle, would winked him a discreet greeting. Other than that… everybody just ignored him. _Oh, well... not that I cared…_

Behind the main door, is the butler, Heracles, standing in front of an open carriage door, waiting for Lovino. After making sure the boy is well seated, he closes the door.

"Hyaa." He commanded the white stallion, and with a soft pat of his feet, the cart's wheels begin stirring along with the moving mount. After traveling for sometimes, the other villager's houses disappears, and then, trees, in bouncy greens and emeralds, begins to flocked outside of the cartridge's window. Across a small hill, at the end of the dirt road, between two green trees stood a home surrounded by Amber Lilies. The cartridge's moving form came to an end, the butler jump off his horse and walk back to opens the door for Lovino.

"Thanks." Said the boy to the butler.

"You are welcome, Sir Lovino, I shall wait here for you until you are done with visiting your grandfather and young brother," Heracles replied, and bows at Lovino.

"Alright." The young Italian remarked and headed for the close white entrance in front of him.

As Lovino approaches Grandpa Roma and Feliciano, judging from their shadows behind the front gate, he notes that they are well and content, recovering quite nicely actually. The grandfather and young brother were tending the orange garden and upon noticing Lovino, they gave him a welcome with waves of their hands. Feliciano rushes over and opens the gate for his elder brother.

"Hey, Lovino, what took you so long to come visit us?" The young brother quirked, hugging Lovino so.

"Ah. I was very busy." Lovino pats Feliciano's back, holding him close, missing and rejoicing his warm and beating heart, unlike that time, cold faced, and pale lips. _Thump. Thump. Thump._

Grandpa Roma come over and joins the two embracing brothers. "Hey there, Lovi, long time no see." Laughing wholeheartedly, he turns to Lovino and ruffles his head in a loving manner of his. _Grandpa's alright too._

Grapping Lovino's hand and Granpa Roma's, Feliciano dragged both his older brother and grandfather inside the front gate and headed for the main doorway. The oranges from the fully blossomed Amber Lilies are so bright, it is almost blinding. "Hey, hey, come inside and check out this house Antonio gave us, Lovino, it is so big and beautiful!" It was dazzling indeed; from the outside, the home itself may looked small enough to respites away undesirable intruders. Once through the front door, inside, however, it is a different story, ruby, red rugs, elegant chandelier lights, and paintings, lots and lots of stunning paintings. This is exactly what Lovino wanted; big, spacious rooms, clean and spotless from stains and molds, out from the looks and whispers of repulsion from other villagers. Something really nice for Grandpa Roma and Feliciano. Lovino turns to face his beaming grandfather and younger brother, a small smile blooms on his mind, out of the clutter of mess and confusion he is having all morning.

"Lovino! Come inside this room, and have a good look at these ornaments!" The young brother said, with excitement and enthusiam in his eyes, dragging Lovino to come look at the pretty and shiny decorations.

Grandpa Roma cut himself over to Feliciano and remark, beaming at his eldest grandson,"… And here, here is the kitchen, look at the shiny cups and plates!"

"Lovi, Lovi, come look at my bedroom!" Feliciano quickly jumped over to Lovino and snatch him away from his grandfather.

For today, Lovino decided to lock away any of his doubts and suspicions, and enjoy a moment of peace with his grandfather and young brother. The happy expression they wore was able calm and put his mind at ease, for now at least. With a somewhat content face, he follow suit behind joyful Feliciano, ranting about how lovely his bed is, and blissful Grandpa Roma, raving about how nice the glasswares inside the cabinet is.

Night came a bit too quickly and Lovino was force to bit his absent-minded grandfather and nonsensical young brother a good bye. The two dark figures of Feliciano's and Grandpa Roma's stands in the front gate, waving their hands as farewells for Lovino's departing form.

The butler opens the carriage's door for his young escort. "Sir Lovino, I trust that you've had a good time?"

"Uh." Agreed the satisfied and relaxed Italian boy. After seated, Lovino peaked out of the window and have a final look at his grandfather and younger brother.

"Buh-bye, Lovino! Please bring something nice for me the next time you visit us!" Feliciano reminded his elder brother, waving non-stop at the passing carriage.

"Don't forget to give our gratitude to Antonio, Lovi!.. And tell him to come with you when you visit us again!" The grandfather urged. In return, Lovino just wave a good-bye to them, staying silent the entire time, unsure of what to say. After the carriage's wheels rolls and moves for some time, the shadows of Grandpa Roma's and Feliciano finally disappears from Lovino's sight. The noises from underneath the traveling cart are like a night's chorus of slumbering and snoozing for the fallen sky.

_T—tint. T—tint. T—tint._

Then, stars, in effervescent blues and firing sparkling silvers, bombarded the heavens above like fireworks. It was a cold night; Lovino could feel the callings of winds from inside his cartridge. It was isolated, too, as there are no animals belonging to the night reveling in their shady corners and caves. The carriage's wheels toppled over some pebbles along the dirt road. Lovino could feel the carriage begins moving a bit faster, too fast, to frantic, too needy, and too hasty. Passing through a turn, his heart rate picks up as he come in contact with greens, two of sharp and aerated green orbs. Lovino's stomach tightened, a nauseating sensation begins building up in his stomach. He could feel his mouth dry, lips thinning, a familiar feeling of being pursued after, sneaks up on him, so slowly, so delicately. _Bathump, bathump, bathump_. There is a big lump in Lovino's throat. Then and there, the carriage came to a complete stop. Lovino sit still in his seat, wonderment finally hits him. _Why are we stopping? We are not at the knight's home yet._

Upfront, Lovino could hear Heracles whispers to him, "Sir Lovino, I ask of you to please stay calm, I'm here… alright?"

"Alright." The boy replied, his heart skip a beat, nervousness sweats in his hands. _What is going on?_ The butler climbs off his stallion, and walk back to where Lovino is seated, and opens the door for him. He makes eye contact with Lovino for a long second, caution and threat shown in his deep gaze. There was a blade ready in the butler's right hand, he handed a sheathed sword to Lovino, which the boy accepts with indecision. With murmurs, Heracles asks, "Do you know how to fight with this?"

To which Lovino answer flatly, "No." Hesitated, with careful and restrained steps, Lovino paces out of the safe compartment inside the carriage, the sword wobbles in his rumbling hands. Rustles. Rustles. Stop.

And.

Then.

Green eyes.

So dark and ambiguous in the black background, full of vague and unclear intentions. The grey dagger from that incident, shining glowingly in the full moonlight… in his hand swayed back and forth. _Just like that time._

A gleeful laugh. "Well, hello there, I miss you and your amber eyes… Do you miss me too?" That thick accent. _The green eyed man… _The carriage was surrounded by the same men in the dark alley, small swords and long blades, unsheathe and pointed at Lovino's and the butler's direction. Heracles moves to stand beside Lovino, kneel knees and sword on the green eyed man. The man raises his left hand and then, without haste, without warning, swamps and swamps of men, in the dark, behind the trees, inside the bushes, clustered over to where Lovino and the butler stood. Lovino's shoulder's jumped, starting by the sudden movements, by the perilous gazes, and looks of the familiar faces, and draw his sword as reflex. _Shheennn. The sword handle. _This is a first time for the boy, to have something so dangerous to the touch, so foreign, so sharp, and so destructive. _What do I do? What do I do?_ The rushes, the ambiguities, the doubts are killing him. _Damn it._

They are surrounded, with naught of an opening for withdrawals, like a spider web, like a closing flower sleeping in for the night. Lovino look to his left and then to his right, there is no escape. He must fight. For his own survival. There is no more luck for him. He is not in the safe capacity of the Infanta's palace walls along side with the other servants. There are no Feliciano nor Grandpa Roma supporting him, telling him everything will be alright, or singing songs of welcoming for another peaceful day… No more of the knight and his crimson, red cape, saving him, shielding, protecting him.

When a man approach him with deadly bloodshot eyes, Lovino paused, and then eyes tightened, he raises his sword and swing. Over to the man's dangerous moving blade, pierces through his dark clothes, into his heart, and then, the blood soaked through and showered all over Lovino's body like a blanket. He had done it… His first kill. Thump…! Thump…! Thump…! Then, just like a machine, his body automatically moves on its own, the same thing happened to a second person, then third, then fourth, and then… he lost count. The reds and the rubies from the people contaminated the sword in his hands over, and over, and over, and over again. Ahead of him is the butler, Heracles, doing the same thing as him, taking the crimson away from a standing person, just like Lovino, but with more ease, and his movement is skill with ease as the red soaked into his body. _Blood… There is so much blood. Just like that time…_

_But._

_What is happening…?_

… _Why are they keeping coming at us…?_

Black dots in shape of humans, too many to count, continuously multiply before Lovino's eyes. _"Ahh…!"_ To Lovino's left, is Heracles, fallen and wounds in too many places by the green eyed man, kneeling on the ground, clutching on to his blade. _Hah… Hah… Hah…_ Finally, outnumbered, the followers of the green eyed man came over and beat the purple bruises and red marks into the butler' quiet face. _Smack. Smack. Smack._

Distracted by the scene, a man came over and slashes his dagger onto Lovino's left shoulder._ Trickle._ With wide eyes, terrified at the red dripping down over his hand, he bits his lips and swings his sword over his back at his hidden attacker. The attacker yelped at the sudden impact on him and decided to obscure himself back in the looming shadow behind him. Lovino switches the sword to his left hand, and uses his right hand to cover up as much of the flood of blood on his shoulder. With sudden interest, the green eyed man steps over to Lovino. An alert and vigilant face, Lovino pointed his sword at the man. Sudden wide eyes and simpering face, he slits his body toward the boy. Lovino yelp and swipe his sword with inexperience. Nippy strides like a snake, the man duck under the weakened boy and then he successfully whacks out the sword in his left hand. _Knock. Knnghhtt!_ Lovino's sword disappears in the darkness before him; the silver still remained in the distant like a star. The green eyed man gathered around them and all pointed their blades at Lovino's form. He releases his right hand and let the red blood consumed him.

Then, the night stood still. Soundless and muted. Crickets' chirps and peeps could be heard loudly in Lovino's head. _Chirp. Chirp. Chirp. I lost…_ His amber eyes shown defeat and overthrow at the green eyed man before him.

With hands behind his back, his face neighed at the bleeding, now defenseless boy, he ridiculed, "I wonder, what is so special about you…?" The man remarked, observing and exploring Lovino's entire body. His breath, the same thing like that time in the dark alley, masked in alcohol and tobacco smoke. "Maybe, underneath all of these clothes, indeed, that you are a siren in bed? I never try it with a male before… maybe it was that it was exceptionally good that he kept you for such a long time?"

Just like a snake and his prey. Sssshhhh… He flips his dagger and rips through Lovino's shirt. Like clusters of hails, the cloth torn and tattered before him. Lovino stayed silent, the greys and silvers from the blades and swords around him luster blazingly in the dark night. The green eyed man giggles and lips his dark lips at the sight shown before his face. _Milky skin, so smooth, so touchable, so fragile. Ooh…_ Goosebumps begins crawling onto Lovino like ants; the night's wind was awfully cold against his skin. The green eyed man stroll behind Lovino, cold hands on him, a dagger on his throat, and licks the scarlet blood flows out of his shoulder. The boy shivered, disgust shown in his shaky breath.

"… Deliciousss." The man commented, the boy's blood was so sweet, thick and mixed with a distant mixture he can't name, the taste of iron idled in his mouth. More. He wants more. A lot more. He try to contain his own excitement, wouldn't want to embarrass himself in front of his men. His hands return to his back. The man continues watching Lovino, to the front, admiring the amber in his eyes. His followers begins whistling and chanting him to take the boy, to violate him, to mark him. He smiles widely. _No more games_. Then, he twirls himself around Lovino in circles. Round and round, round and round, round and round.

Lovino's pants, shredded and dilapidated, into thousands and thousands of frayed specks and blotches. His amber eyes enlarged, sweats begins forming over his temple, his breathing, hysterical. Lovino was stark naked. His body started to shake irrepressibly. The whistles and howls from the followers of the green eyed man around him, strengthened.

The green eyed man knocks Lovino down on the ground. _Thump!_ The men around Lovino wrap their hands around him, legs and arms, like chains, holding him against the wall of dirt. Grinning, the green eyed man begins exploring him. His greedy rough tongue, fowl saliva, and cold green eyes, unlike the knight's... the time that they shared in his bedroom… A lick on his adam's apple. Lovino shuttered. Downward, to his left nipple, then right, all the way to his bellybutton… oh gods… _Scare… I'm scared…_

Lovino looks down; his mouth was on his soft member. He looks to his left, Heracles is being tied to a tree, the followers of the green eyed man begin violating the butler. _Just like a toy_. He couldn't move, the prison of hands on him. The man above him. A quiet whisper, "… Antonio…"

"… Antonio…!" A bit more louder, harsher, needier. White lights from the moon and the stars above begins showing through his dead amber eyes.

With sudden outburst of life, the defiant and insolent returns back to him, Lovino bellowed, "Antonio!" _Hah…! Hah…! Hah…! Where are you?_

_Smack!_ A red bruise forms just above Lovino's upper lips. More blood… Drip... Drip… Drip…

"Shut up." The green eyed man sneered, then, he shrove down his own pants, freeing his own arousal, his need, for the boy.

_Antonio…_

_._

"Father, what is a 'pirate'?"

"... On the big, wide sea, a pirate is someone who compels many acts of deceitfulness, meaning, they will do _anything_ to gain wealth and riches from others' misery and misfortunes… why the sudden interest, son?"

"Oh, nothing, I just wanted to know. I've read about it in some books… can you tell me more about pirates, father?"

"Why, it is my pleasure, my little curious kamerad! You see… pirate has roamed around every deep seas and vast oceans for decades, too long for even me, across the whole world. I believe the first sighting of pirates is probably around 1350s or so BC, during the reign of Pharoah Akhenaten of Egypt, there were scriptures of "attacks at seas" by men on ships with flags of unknown countries. Even the Romans' and Greeks' vessels and ships; when their kingdom colonization across the oceans to distant domains, were being pursued by pirates in hiding in the cloud's shadows and inside the eye of storms on the Mediterranean Sea… Forward to the13th century, pirates rapidly increases on the sea during the period when China was experimenting political and economic changes in their government's system. Now, throughout the Ming Dynasty, I presumed, pirates of Chinese's origin; governed and terrorized the sea of China. The Chinese pirates were so influential and powerful that the Dutch East - India Company brides and tried to convert them as men of theirs to assist them regulate the markets and trading in Asia. Even the European's agents tailed after the Chinese pirates to magnify their welfares and benefits… I think they build a company in Jakarta to lures the pirates in, but I have my fingers crossed. The Chinese pirates were greedy and selfish, of course, build and shaped their own personal establishments and gained a lot more golds and silvers than the Europeans, Dutch, and the rest of the world could offers… Till this very day today, pirates are will around, doing their usual dirty deeds and hide their ships in remote areas around the sea, until the time is right to strike once again… what do you think of my history lesson, son?"

"You did a good job, father."

"Do you know what is a 'captain', then?"

"… Yes… he is a man who tells people what to do…?"

"You are absolutely right; actually, son."

"… Can you please tell me more? How did he rise to power above others? What does he do? Is he famous?"

"My little curious kamerad is an explorer, I can tell…A captain rise to power because he is the most powerful and intellectual man above his mates, of course. And like you said, a captain controls is absolute, his ship, his men, the money, everything. As for pirate being famous… pirate captain, wise, right away, people would assume it was the two Barbarossa brothers from Barbary Corsairs Empire… but I'll say, it's Blackbeard."

"'_Black… beard_?' What an odd name… Tell me more about him."

"Alright… You see, son, 'Blackbeard' was of British's origin, his physical name was believed to have been 'Edward Teach'. He becomes a sailor at a very young age; he was appointed on a Britain's base that was grounded in the island of Jamaica in the Caribbean Sea. His only task was to fire bombs at the enemy's incoming ship. Throughout the War of the Spanish Succession, the queen, Anne of Britain, allowed Edward Teach's ship to raids the Spanish's and the French's ships, and to retain and preserve the pilfered merchandises and belongings on the wrecked ships. When the war ended, Edward Teach had himself developed and gained many experiences as a mugger at sea. Then, Teach recruit himself onto a ship of wandering pirates on the Caribbean Sea. Afterwards, the intrepid and influential Edward Teach elect his person a leader, a captain of the ship he was a pirate of, which he had taken from his weak mates. For two whole years, the pirate, Edward Teach, sailed his ship around the Caribbean Sea and the Atlantic Ocean, secretly ambuscading merchant ships loaded with riches, before the day leaked through the darkness. Most ships would surrender immediately after hearing the calling of his name… If not, then Blackbeard's ship would set fire a warning bomb at them, and then he and his men will boarded on their ship, terrorizing the sailors and passengers and steals their golds, silver, coppers, and jewels… As his name implied, his beard grew along with his supremacy and influence, he even decorate his black locks with braids and ribbons. He was a terrifying pirate at the time. Ah, but Blackbeard was no match for the great general, Lt. Maynard. After hearing the news of Blackbeard hosting a gathering for pirates, the governor of Virginia sent Maynard after his head. But, hearing the bad news, only to have the fearsome pirate captain laughs and shrugged off like a flee resting on his hair. It was the bloodiest battle Blackbeard had ever faced in Ocracoke Inlet in 1718… and he himself, was defeated, because of his ignorant and arrogance personality. Blackbeard's standing head was slice off his body and hanged from the longbow of Lt. Maynard's flag as a fair cautionary to the other resisting pirates. The general then set out an investigation for Blackbeard's monies and gems he snatched from innocence people, however, only he, Maynard, could discover findings of useless goods and letters in inks. Like any other pirate, he was cursed to die along with his fame, his lifetime's weath, of coins, golds, and silvers, perished, alongside with his ashes, though, if he had said the truth about his 'vast' wealth to begins with… And that is the end of my lesson, you got everything, mate?"

"What do you mean, father?"

"Why, I am your captain, and you are my best mate. What are you blabbering about? Do you understand everything that I just said, my friend?"

"Yes!"

"Good! Go fetch me my red cape, friend. Now, we shall set sail toward The New Land and take all the gold to ourselves, are you ready?"

"Ay, Kapitän."

"Ha, ha, you say 'captain' funny, remember, mate, we don't live in Berlin anymore…"

… _Smack._

… _Smack._

… _Smack._

_... Where are you, father...?_

_Smack._

_Hey, leave my brother alone._

_Smack._

_Stop. _

To the left. A scissor. _So sharp… ah, I accidentally touch the tip_. Drip. _Ouch._ Would it cut through her… like a piece of paper? _Stop hitting my brother…_

_Stop it._

A boy stood up, his fists on his side, with all the will he could mustered, he shrieks, "I said, stop!" With the scissor in his hands, he charged forward, his passion runs freely, and into the stomach of his young brother's oppressor. A smirk. _You deserved it_.

"Hey, are you alrig…" Before the older boy could finish his sentence, his brother's hand stung across his face. _Slap._ The impact was so shocking, that it knocks him down, landing himself on top of the tile floor.

A quiet, confused voice. "Brother… he is our mother…" The young boy walks over to his mother kneeling on the floor, clutching onto her stomach, gasping in pain and agony. "Mother, are you alright?" He asks, stroking his mother's head.

The older boy slowly stood in his spot, amazed and befuddled. A vase was thrown at him. He dodge to the side, the crushed pieces of the glass are like bees bursting out of their nest behind him.

"Leave you, son of the devil!" The wounded woman yelled, crying and clutching to her only good child at her side.

_Gallop. Gallop. Gallop. Gallo—Ta-tap. Ta-tap. Ta-tap. Flap. Flap. Flap. Rustle. Rustle. Rustle._

_What is this?_ It smells good. So nice. So sweet. To the boy's right, is an open bakery, filled with freshly bake bread, confetti sweets, and all sorts of charming and scrumptious snacks, caramels in sugars and creams… and there no people inside. _Growl._ _I'm hungry. _

_Just one. So good. Just one more. Oh, it tastes so good. Just one last lick then._ "What do you think you're doing, kid? Didn't your mother teach you to buy things before you can actually enjoy them?" Said a man dressed in a white suit, standing behind the boy; watching him with his fuming and provoked eyes.

"No." The boy licks his lips, and turns to look at the man. The sweets were so good in his mouth that he forget the immodesty, the keenness, the coercion of himself right at this moment in him.

_Smack. _A red mark imprinted in a shape of a hand engraved across the boy's face. After being hit by the blow, the realization, the shame, and the embarrassment returns, a fright came to him. Run, run... now. To anywhere. He needs to get away. Of seeing a prideful boy of his self so low likes this…

"Get back here, you little brat!" The man in the white suit squawked from behind the boy's running form, following his messy footsteps, and then out of his shop. Run, run, run, that is all the boy could do. The man in the white suit smirked when the boy turns into a corridor, its walls shadowed over by other houses and shops, the path that he knows too well. _Good. Nobody has ever walked in there. You're such an unlucky kid. _

_Crashed! _The boy felt on top of the ground, he man was on his back; his heavy weight holds him down. 'Heh.' He sneered, and flips him over. The man in the white suit rolled up his sleeve and clasped knuckles together. He could hear snaps in his tense joins. _Alright, let's end this quick… Actually, this will only last maybe a minute or two._

_Punch, punch, punch. _

_Punch, punch, punch. _

A punch for every penny the boy didn't pay. He's just teaching him a lesson.

_It hurts. _

_Help… father…_

_Punch. Punch. Punch._

… _Thud. _

A hand gently taps on the man in the white suit. "Excused me, sir, you are in my spot." _Huh… _It was dark but, the boy with red eyes could see so clearly. Behind the man, is… a boy, around his age, with narrowed emerald eyes, and his body, in bandages from his face all the way down to his feet, covered. The man glances at his back and snorted. _Oh. It's just another brat._

_Tch._ Grumbling in displeasure that he is interrupted at a time like this, the man stood up and turns himself over completely. His figure was obviously superior in comparison to the thin boy. The man's eyesight was poor; he couldn't see well that is before him in the dark. _Fuck._ Annoyed, he spat, "What do you want, kid?"

"This is where I sleep, you see." The boy stated, his voice was as calm as ocean waves, stating his only distress.

After adjusting his sight in the dimmed darkness, he noted that the boy has bandages all over himself, "Runt, are you his friend?" _Urgh…_

"No." He answered, looking uninterested and tired. "Please move."

"A kid like you should run home to momma, and suck on her tits, until you turn into a fine man like me. Though… runts like you; living and begging for foods in places like this, probably been abandoned by a cheap whore—" Before the man in white suit could perfectly polished his insult, he was stopped by the constriction of his throat, held in forcefully, his Adams' apple crinkled tightly against his skin. _Ahh..!_ There was no air. No air releases in or out of his mouth, an unforeseen experience, he felt suddenly trapped, afraid, scare, and vulnerable, defenseless, weak. The green eyed boy, whose fail body, and that little small hand. This tiny and puny hand of his... that is now gripped securely onto his neck, precise, and resilient… so strong. His strength was… inhuman. The man in the white suit could feel the boy's cold blood effervescent in the veins of that tiny, diminutive hand of his. His eyes, dilated, were the dimmest blind of emerald.

The green eyed boy stared intensely at the man in his hand, enjoying the fear emanated off his natural stench. He turns over and cracked his head into the concrete wall beside him. He pushes his head deep into the stone pavement, approving the red coming out of the man's damaged face. "Ahhhhh!" The man in the white suit scream, his perfectly cleaned uniform, ruined by the red liquid dripping off of him. Blood... _Drip. Drip. Drip_. "Pardon my rudeness, sir, leave, please, before I do something really… bad." He loosened his grip on the man's head, an escape route opens for him. His eyes pointed toward the light, the other side of this ambiguous darkness, his safe exit, of now or never.

Terrified. Frightened. Alarmed. And surprise. The man in the white suit, now drenched in crimson red blood, make a quick run to the intense and beeming light end of the dark pathway. Never once had he dared to look back at the green eyed boy, whose eyes was as dark as the night.

_Growl_.

The boy's stomach howled loudly, his dark eyes returning to its usual emerald greens, gently touched his lower abdominal. "Ah. I'm famished." He turns his feet over and steps into the blossoming glooms and shades of houses behind him.

"… You." The red eyed boy called, successfully stopping the departing boy in front of him. "What is your name?" He asked, willing his bruised body upward and stare at his retreating back.

The boy turned over and remarks, "What is in a name? I don't have one… but, I guess, you could call me, Antonio." After he finishes his sentence, he turns onto his behind once more, and walk forward, continuing on his way. The red eyed boy could see a crimson cape spurted from the boy's back, like wings, in the darkness he went… this boy who calls himself, Antonio.

"… Kapitän…"

_A hero. _

.

The night was so young. Way too young to be called beautiful, yet not old enough to be considered fully matured and grown. Full moon, stars in tiny little, sparkling dots, and cloudless mists cover the full sky. A raven flew over a forest corner, after having to bystander a bloody sight of the fight earlier, he warns his other animal friends. Ka-coo. Ka-coo. Ka-coo._ 'Run away, run way, run away,' he said._ Of course, nobody was dying, just a made believe scene, an act for a performance, being directed for one man, a green eyed man, and he is enjoying every bit of it. As for everybody else, the blood was physical, the fright was actual, and the screaming of help was genuine.

The green eyed man prepares himself, and guide his member toward Lovino's exposed opened. The corners of his mouth glistened with saliva… the boy looks so… _ravishing_. He tries to control is excited breathing. Ah, dear god. This is a first time for him… doing something so… dirty… so mischievously out of character… so naughty. A young flower blooms in the midst of the night. The red blood on his shoulder, the awaken terror in his amber eyes, his pastel, childlike face, the inconsistent inhalation. The boy's eyes widened, his uneven breathing was out of control. He bites his lips and then closes his seeing eyes, not wanting to witness that will comes next. The whistle and cheers around him deepened. Lovino opens his mouth once more to shriek for any kind of assistance, but, the wound on his lips prevents him from doing so.

The boy opens his eyes and stared at the full moon on top of him. _Will he come?... Just like those other times?_ Lovino turns to look at his right, left, to the right again. Thump… Thump… Thump… _No one._ The girl with the golden hair parted her ways with him, for forever, the strong and reliable butler, Heracles, is beaten; Feliciano and Grandpa Roma are busily tidied up their new home, and… Antonio is at war in Porto. The expectancy of safe heavens, the suspicions of hopes, and the sorrow of his cried being once again ignored, begins to tiptoes up on him. _Oh well. _He closes his eyes one last time, waiting to be brutally violated in front of all of these familiar faces of people… The people chasing after him in the dark alley… No one will remember him anyway, he does not have a lover to cherish, he does not have any friends to mourn for him, he does not have riches to give to his family. In all of his life, back in Sicily, to now here in Seville, he owns nothing of value. The only things he had on his back are his young brother, Feliciano, and grandfather, Grandpa Roma. And now… the damned bastard knight… Antonio… is nowhere near here. Maybe he had forgotten about him, just like everybody else. Lovino is a nobody, after all.

Nothing….

Just like the rest of him…

Thump…

Thump…

Thump…

_Shfffffttt…! _It was shift, it was quick, it was abrupt. Lovino opens his amber eyes once more. The green eyed man was slammed up against the trunk of a tree in the far, far distant, away from the boy's person.

_Keehhh!_ The green eyed man's dagger crashed against what appears to be a long blade. He blushed thinking to himself, '_Oh, dear… excused me._' And pulls up his loose hanging pants. Then, he takes out a second dagger besides his hips and slips it on the upper top of his left, upended dagger. Lovino could hear him remark, chuckling gleefully, "Aha, a hero shows up... But, who is this?". K… kk—k… kk—k… kk. Their blades shifts from one way to another, trying to overwhelmed other each other, to see who is stronger in endurance and strength.

Blonde hair.

Cobalt eyes.

And a blue cape.

It was a French man.

It was… the cook who made all of those delicious Italian cuisines.

It was the man who magically turns Lovino into a beautiful girl.

It was Francis.

The helpers from many months ago, during the invasion of the British on Spain's land, hastily hurry to removes the unwanted prison of hands away from Lovino. Without noises, as quiet as a mouse, one by one, the hands disappears. First, his right arm, then his left arm, his right leg, then left. Not too far away, is Heracles being rescued in the same way like him. Lovino kept himself silent, not wanting to draw any eyes to his naked form. A soldier with red eyes came over, help covering the wound on his upper right shoulder and lips with fresh bandages, handed him some clothes for coverage, and then drapes a large blanket over his bare flesh. The boy accepts the soldier's offer with a soft, "thanks." He held tightly on to the blanket, stilled his body from shaking wildly, and tries to calm down his own fitful exhales and inhales as he timidly puts the clothes on under the white sheet. He lowered his head and attempts to shield himself away from the absolute mortification, the infamy, the panic, the shock in his amber eyes. The soldiers around him are starting to draw their swords, and begin fighting way the men dressed in black. One, after another, after another, after another, their numbers slowly melts away, all of those scary shadows, some manage to escape, some were severely hurt, come were captured.

To the distant of Lovino's right, are the green eyed man and the Frenchman. A discord. Klang. Klang. Klang. The messy transcript of notes gushed of their their blades from one another was so unharmonious and ununiformed, an eruption of dissonance smashing chaotically against each other. Screech. Screech. Screech. The noises were so horrendous, that the other people around them cover their ears against such appalling echoing resonances. Kkkehh! Kkkehh! Kkkehh!

'_Tch… so, all of those bloody words of adoration are all for nobody.' _The green eyed man thought to himself, looking deep into his opponent's lying blue eyes. He bites his lips hard, his resentment splayed, his venom at the tip of his tongue, heart's beating madly against his chest. Hah! Hah! Hah! To the left, to the right, bottom, up, down, sideway, left, left, right, the green eyed man releases all of his anger and animosity into the swings of his sharp weapons against the blade of the Frenchman. His dagger cried out in hatred. Kkkehh! Kkkehh! Kkkehh! His body, like earlier, slides and shifts like a snake circling a delicious red apple. Hisss. Hisss. Hisss. After drawing blood from Francis' lower stomach, the green eyed man kept his left dagger pointed at the blonde man, and licks the red dripping off his right dagger. _Mnnn…_

"… Ahh! All of these delicious red bloods are driving me crazyyy." He alleged, savoring, and smiling at the sweet iron nectar slowly vanishing inside his greedy mouth. He loves to toy with his food before eating them whole. His little preys His are always so fun to play with; his victory always tastes so sweet like honey. _Let's do it again, I'm having so much fun._ The green eyed man licks his lips, eyes pixilating, and surges toward the Frenchman. Left, right, left, right, left, right. _Yes, that's right, just like my pet snake, little Al._ Again, left, right, left, right, left, right. Something felt odd about the Frenchman today, well; he is always odd, more oddly, actually_. Oh, an opening._ The green eyed man ducks to the Frenchman's side, clasp himself snugly onto him, and proceed to have another sample of his enchanting red blood. _Amazing. _He raises his left dagger and effortlessly glides it across the Frenchman's back, wanting to see and taste more of that delightful red blood. Kkkehh… _Oh, so wonderful._

The green eyed man smiled, and then unwinds himself away from the Frenchman's behind. Then, he slithers back into his home, in the green trees and the bushes. He settled himself on top of a tree's branch and observes the eyeing Frenchman beneath him. _He's looking for me right... at this moment._ Francis looks so handsome in the dark, glowing alabaster skin, deep cobalt eyes, rosy red lips. So dashing, so striking. The green eyed slips back down, wanting to join the beautiful man, wanting to ask him for a session of moon watching, just the two of them under this dark sky. He notes that his cobalt eyes were on the Italian in the distant, a spike of jealousy spreading in his irritated green orbs. He spits out his venom resting inside his lips, like acid, it melts into the branch underneath his feet. _ Francis has never looked at me like that._ He was not a jealous person. No. In fact, he can get whatever, whenever he wanted, but the one man he wanted, the sudden object of his affection… He does not know why. He is a straight man, and have always had an interest in women… so why the sudden interest? The Frenchman was a huge pervert, he is greedy, arrogance, and bugs him to no ends. The flirting, the arguments, the mocking, the fighting…

But.

He wanted him.

Badly.

He felt dizzy. To the left, to the right, to the left... His vision before him blurred. His body wobbling back and forth, back and forth, no longer a serious somber man. He was drunk, intoxicated by his scent, so welcoming and warm... The only thing he could see, is the Frenchman's blonde hair, yellow in golds, in this intense darkness. The green eyed man shifts in his seat, and jump onto another branch of a tree besides him, playing hide and seek with the Frenchman. To another branch, then, the next one, the next one... Silently urging him to dance with him in the dark abyss. _I am up here, idiot. _Look at me, and only me. To the left, to the right, turned over, twirl, spins, it was a very beautiful waltz. He slides himself down the tree branch and quickly and quietly approaches Francis from behind. He attached himself on to the Frenchman once again; give him another injury of his pain on his back, only this time, he whispers in a low voice into his right ear, "… Before you came here, I was going to help myself between the boy's legs, to see for myself, why our captain was so obsessed with him… Now I see why…" A small chuckled, he licks his ears, humming with delight.

In a flash, the green eyed man's body was constrained firmly against the trunk of a tree. His green orbs enlarged at the hasty crusade. The rushed gust of wind on his back, the scalps of the uneven tree's trunk, his dagger being vehemently bashes way from his hands, and then… _Francis_… What happens to their beautiful dance just now? Francis...

His cobalt eyes, possessed. He tightened the sword in his hand and swings it across the green eyed man's chest. Without hesitation, a clean, precise cut. Without mercy, without warning, without...

_Slash. _

_Slash. _

_Slash. _

Another one._ Slash. _

Then, another one. _Slash. _

More_. _

_Slash. _

_Slash. _

_Slash._

The soldier with red eyes walks toward the Frenchman. His hand clasp tightly onto the man's hand, whose grip was a deadly iron against the blade's hilt. The man turns to look at the soldier behind him; his cobalt eyes were so deep, as dark as the night surrounds them. Blood was sopping off of the Frenchman's uniform like a torrent of rain's dewdrops. The soldier's red eyes locked with the man's black cobalt pupils. "Remember."

_We should never do things that will cause attention to us._

"… Ah, pardon me, I am sorry that you have to see that, Cher Gilbert." The Frenchman apologized, lowering his blade. The man behind him drop onto the ground, breathing cripplingly, unconscious half-lit green eyes, blood spurting out of him. The soldier with the red eyes pulls him away from the bloody ground and drags his weak body toward the prisons of his conquered followers.

Steps. Steps. Steps.

The green eyed man crosses paths with the Italian boy, the precious lover of his strong and capable captain. With a smirk before the blood loss overpowered his vision, the man hint, in a soft and noiseless voice, enough only for Lovino, "… M… Ca… r…" It was faint, but the boy could hear his whisper… This is the same… like that time with the blue eyed soldier_… M… Car…? _Lovino was too exhausted to care.

Francis places his blade back inside the scabbard beside his hips, walks up to Lovino's sitting person, in the middle of the fight scene, stood a flower. Of reds spattering around a lively Amber Lily. So vulnerable. He kneels on the ground, making eye contacts with the young, spirited away face of the boy. A tap on Lovino's downcast shoulder, Francis asks, "Sir Lovino, are you alright?"

"…Yes, I am alright." He answered, wearily. He is sleepy. Francis helps his tired body up, toward the abandoned and forgotten carriage just a few feet away. When the carriage door opens, the butler is already inside the cart, on a red seat, his blood blends in with the crimson colors. Lovino sat on the opposite side. As soon as the soft seat cushion touches his back, he then let out a relieved signed. Francis sat himself on the steed; with a soft pat of his feet on the animal's side, the carriage's wheels begin moving forward once more, toward the knight's mansion. Lovino turns to look outside of the open window. The moon outside is still full, stars sparks, the animals returns back to their homes after everybody left the sight with nothing but red blood sprinkled all over. The night was still youthful.

"Hey, we are almost there." Lovino reminded Heracles. Seeing as how the man slowly drifts of toward unconsciousness, his eyes disquieted with lethargy and lassitude.

"Ah, alright, thank you, Sir Lovino... I am sorry for troubling you." The butler said, forcing himself to crack a small smile at the young boy.

"No. I am sorry for not being strong enough." Lovino stated, looking down in his feet_. If only…_

"… Young sir, you are very strong." Heracles assured the Italian, just like him, he looks out of the window and begins counting the stars above. _You have no idea how much Master Antonio care about you._

The many trees outside slowly fades into the dark shadows, and then houses, in in whites, blues, and reds, appears, the oddly familiar street once again thriving, the road to the knight's mansion. After the carriage arrives at its desired destination, the Frenchman got off his horse; hurries through the front gate, into the main entrance, and then, coming back with him are the pretty maid, Bella, and the proviso, Roderich.

"Please assist Heracles and take care of his wounds for me, Bella, Roderich." Francis asks of them, a plead in his cobalt eyes. They did what he told them, helping Heracles into the servant's chamber with apprehension faces, then, he himself, aids Lovino back to the master bedroom. Lovino felt light headed, dizziness swims over his mind, as his feet follows with the Frenchman's steps on the long stairway. Step… Step… Step… _Creak._ Seeing the knight's room, whose room lighted with burning candles, gave comfort to the boy. Francis turns to look at Lovino, his clothes, stampeded in blood spots and dirth, his cobalt eyes deepened. He supports Lovino on to the bed, a warm blanket over the boy, making sure he is unperturbed and relaxed.

"Excused me, Sir Lovino. I will come back shortly. I need to take care of myself more." The Frenchman told the Italian resting on the bed. His wounds are still fresh, and have not yet tended himself. "I will send Bella to check your injuries and prepare some fresh clothes for you."

"Uh." Lovino gave him a slight nodded. The Frenchman smiled and bows at the boy before going on to his way. Closing the door behind him with a muffled squeak.

Knock. Knock. Knock. After a while, the pretty maid appears in the doorway, in her hand, is an aid box for her young master. "Sir Lovino, may I check your wounds?"

"Sure." Lovino answered, the bruised damage on his lip slowly becomes more and more bearable.

"Oh dear, oh dear, look at you, young sir! You are such a trouble maker." The blonde maid exclaimed having a nearer look at the Italian boy, who she barely recognize, he looks so worn out, so weary, drained. She walks over him, set her aid box down, and begins tightened up his loosen bandages and cleanse the excess dried blood on him. When done swathing up Lovino in some more new bandages; Bella walks over to the closet, and takes out a clean shirt and pants for him. A troublesome expression feasts over her face as she dresses Lovino, having difficulties lifting him up and holding him in place, "Ay, ay, ay, dear… Sir Carriedo would be livid once he got back from Porto..." Lovino blushes, his current state is so embarrassing.

A gentle knock on the door caught Bella's attention. It was Francis, himself, wrapped in bandages, and a new rope on his body. In his hand, is a vase full of red rose's bouquet. When the last button of Lovino's shirt passes through the hole on the opposite side, Bella grin at her uncluttered and precise works. She helps the young boy to lie back down to the bed. Then, she exempted herself, seeing how her task is completed and, as she herself, is no longer needed.

Francis walks over to Lovino, after seeing how his amber eyes, once more, slowly and unintentionally, luster with defiant and vigor, he smile. He sets the vase in his arms down on top of the table and said to the Italian, "I had a friend… He used to love it when I brought him roses. He said the smell helps him to be at ease, and I do, hope that you will too, Sir Lovino."

"… Ah. Alright, thank you… Francis." The boy examines the Frenchman with a curious gaze and then comment in a low voice, "Your wounds…"

"Oh, they are just minor injuries, Sir Lovino. Nothing is life threatening." The man reacted, his face, calm and indulgent. Afterward, an earnest appearance consume him, he continue in a collected saying, "Tonight and many nights later, I, and the others, shall leave you alone. After… you may have difficulties coming in contact with another person, and I understand that."

Lovino made eye contact with the Frenchman, now that they are back to the knight's home, in the light… now that Lovino had a closer look, instead of cobalt blues, his eyes looks more green than anything else.

"… I don't mind." The room was touched with warmth with another person here. His presence felt so… calming. _Somehow._

"Ah… you are really something… Well, then, please, allow me to sing you a song, Sir Lovino. I bet it will help you to sleep... May I sit there?" He asks, looking at the spot near Lovino.

"Yes." The Italian answered. Francis settled himself on top of the mattress next to Lovino and looks out to the glass window, flattering the silver stars with his admiring gaze. Taking in a breath of the scent of the roses, he closes his eyes, and opened his lips, lyrics in tranquil melodies arises and blends together, beautifully.

_"… If you love me, if sighs, sol for me, gentle shepherd, I dolor de 'your martyrs, I delight of your love…"_ Lovino turns look at the man's blonde locks before him; oddly reminds him of a bright, burning sun. The boy parts his lips, and mouthed along his chorus in silent. It was a beautiful song, indeed. _"… But if you think insole, I owe you Riamar, Pastorello, you are subject, easily t'ingannar…"_ Everything around Lovino seemed to blurt themselves into darkness, his eyelids felt heavier, heavier, and heavier as each word of the Frenchman's song passes through him. _"Beautiful purple rose, today Silvia choose, under the guise of the plug, doman then despise, but the men on board, for me it does not follow, not because I like the lily… The other flowers sprezzerò…." _The man turns over, his face softened at the sight. By the end of Francis' song, Lovino had fallen deep asleep a long time ago. Lips slightly parted, flushed pink cheeks, his eyelashes look so long.

The Frenchman smiled gently, quietly stroking the young boy's head affectionately, and then pleats in the blanket softly around his calm body. His gentle heart's beats. Thump. Thump. Thump. His peaceful and resting face, soft and smooth to the touch. His breathing. In. Out. In. Out. His chestnut hair, in ruffles and in a messy uncombed state, a token of the event from earlier. Snoring quietly in peace, finally. Snore. Snore. Snore. Someone, anybody, could easily broken in his dream and taken away his innocence, easily and quickly. But, he will fight back, all the way till the end, no matter what. Like a kid, still.

A kiss on his forehead.

"… Good night, pajarito…"


	7. The Eagle, the Snake, and the Sunflower

_**Chapter 7**_: The Eagle, the Snake, and the Sunflower

Back and forth.

Forth and back.

Back and forth.

Forth and back.

The night was still alive, flourishing darker than ever, the sky, inked in onyx black, a shade as deep as blackberries. The stars lining up beyond, group themselves in huge buds of Amber Lilies; and moon, in a curved crescent, shining lustrously as ever. There are dolphins, spinning, reeling, and humming, alongside their friends and families, making merry of another lovely night. A ship, barely speckled, in the mist of the beating darkness, rock back and forth, as another wave come rolling onto its body. Forth and back. Back and forth. Forth and back. On the long bow, hanged a head of a man, whom boast himself to be once a great captain, but, nothing more of him, as he is now just a dangling crown of a defeated man. His body, drowned and forgotten about, over the plank, into the insincerely deep, remote, and cold ocean floor. There are men, standing inside the Crow's Nest, dressed in blacks and slacks, in their hands are telescopes, viewing and beholding for other itinerant ships and land's domain ahead. The rest of them stand beside the mast, holding onto the yardarm's string to set sail for further north. Just off of the bridge is the captain's sea cabin, his room, but, today, a new captain, just barely a boy, rests himself inside his chamber, waiting, daring, urging for his shipmates to come inside and challenge him into a duel.

The young boy takes out a handkerchief inside his pocket and wipes his blade, of which was blemished in red blood. After his blade is spotless clean, he turns to watch the waves, back and forth, through the porthole. _Click._ The door unseals, he narrowed his eyes, his right hand gripped on to his blade. From behind the door, is another boy around his age, if not a bit older, a boy with blonde hair and cobalt eyes, in his hands is a vase of red rose's bouquet. The young boy on the other side relaxed his hold on his blade.

The boy with cobalt eyes' softened, he closes the door after him, then, a genuine smile feast over his lips, and he held, "Cher Antonio, congratulation on becoming our leader today. You must be exceptionally overjoyed, capitaine."

"Why are you speaking in a funny manner, F…?" The young boy asked, slight confusion shown in his emerald eyes.

"Uh - ah, from now on, I shall be known as Francis, Cher Antonio." Interrupted the older blonde, he sets the vase down on top of the table. He twist and leans himself against the edge of the table, then, turn to look at the younger boy. "Tomorrow, we will be in the great country of love, my friend."

A quiet paused. "… The aroma of these roses, it is so calming." The young boy remarked, closing his eyes, allowing the scent to overwhelm him.

The older boy's small smile stretched, taking a rose out of the vase and held it against his nose, "I brought you these roses; the French had a way with conveying their love through the sense of smell. It was rather romantic; don't you think so, too?"

"Ah, it is wonderful." The younger boy agreed. He fold up his handkerchief and put it back inside the flap of his pocket, his blade, once again luster in shining silver as it was being placed back into the scabbard beside him. He set the blade aside, and then rests his head on top of his joined hands; the table top beneath him was hard and cold. He put out a small grin, and begin humming, the smell from the roses was such a delight.

The older boy's smile turn earnest, a deep thought eroded over him, and then he alleged, "Your hands, they stained in reds and in roses, but the scent suggests of the odor of death, rather than the resilient fragrance of young's first love."

"What are you trying to implied? I am a corrupt, greedy, and fraudulent child." Said the younger boy, his emerald eyes peaked, and then glances at the older boy's direction.

The older boy turns to his gaze and said, "In a book I've read, of an Arab's myths, for many days and nights, a nightingale slowly felt in love with a beautiful white rose, one night, when he could no control himself, he constrained his body so forcefully on to the white rose, which then, in recognition of his love, the spikes on the rose impaled on the nightingale's gentle heart. The nightingale's pricked heart, his love, his blood, trickled out in a pool of scarlet, and in turn, converts the once white rose to a deep crimson red color. The folklores from the Christian's, from what I remembers, from the beginning, in the Garden of Eden, it is said that roses was originally a root, a bub of red in the center of a green stem, then blossomed into a striking crimson flower. They were born from the hands of God, without prickles on their stalks, though, not until Adam and Eve, the damned lovers, were banished from the Garden that the spikes grew, their unavoidable fallen, their sins imprinted and pierce from the inside out through the stalk. And, then, in a Roman's mythologies trilogies, the symbol of the red roses are supposedly to be derived from a stunning, more beautiful than any goddess, a Roman girl, name Rhodanthe, who had countless admires, that she, was scared, terrified, even, and did not want the attentions, taken sanctuary, in a temple, from their sight, of which is a home of her dearest friend home, a girl by the name of Diana. Regrettably, in a fit of spiteful rage, it is believed that she was in love with one of her friend's many admirers, Diana, Rhodanthe's only friend, charmed by the Envy sin and then bewitched the poor maiden, into a red rose. Diana arisen to a rash and irrational person, when Rhodanthe's numerous admirers charge through to see her, as a result, broken temple's front gate. The jealous friend, Diana, also transform Rhodanthe's admirers into the many sharp stings on the red rose's stems that is her best friend, Rhodanthe… Well, then? What is false? What is truth? What is thing called, 'love'? What is this unforgotten, this disturbance, this uncertainty in our hearts? This ache? This thirst? This throbbing? Roses are very special, Cher Antonio, as there are too many languages, created for them, between lovers who wanted to express their affection for one another. For instance, a bud of a red rose bud means promising longing, on the other hand, a grown white rose, it petals speaks, "I love you, but, do you love me like I?". As for a fully developed crimson rose, it signified, "I'm filled of adoration and longing for you, and only you, my love." Lastly, a defenselessly open yellow rose, indicates, "I, shall always, and forever love you, then again, do you not love me any longer, for forever?"... The French give love to others, but not themselves, in return, however, they are rewarded with a special gift… as I, are a romantic person, myself, and, I think, I, too, doomed to be lonely forever. And my gift, is that, I am able to feel loved, when others are giving away all of their love and their love, then, returned."

.

It was a dark evening, the colors of the night slowly breach through the sky of deep mahogany yellows, auburn oranges, and crimson reds. Lovino stood on the other side of the Amber Lilies garden, of which, are closing their petals for the night. He was watching a door, a door belonging to that mysterious room, the room that nobody sets their foot in, however, today, it was peaked open, slightly, but it is there; open. There are nobody around him, waiting for him, watching him, talking to him, as usual, none. _'Should I go in?'_ He questioned himself, nevertheless, his body betrayed his mind, his feet, as they have gotten a mind of their own, begins moving toward that odd room. He slowly creeps himself inside and closes the door behind him in a quiet, sneaky way. He held in his breath, instinctively.

The room was completely different.

_Different than that time._

That green eyed cat is gone, the paint buckets are gone, the paintbrushes' shelf is gone, the scroll of maps are gone, the wooden table with a vase full of Amber Lilies is gone, the cat dolls are gone, the lantern Lovino left behind is gone, except for a few paintings… paintings in red paint, instead of on the wall, they were set on the floor. Of roses and of people wearing masks. And some normal furniture and decorations here and there. Lovino ambled over to the opposite end; the secret passage way is not here… No dripping noises… The crimson blood… No red faceless people. Just a regular, normal storage room. Lovino releases his breath he had held in, a relieved exhale.

"Sir Lovino, what are you doing here? Do you need anything?" Heracles' voice caught Lovino by surprise midway exploring the room, his shoulders jumped a bit upon hearing his name, his face, startled. His heart beat picks up at the intrude voice. _Ba- thump! Ba-thump! Ba-thump!_

Lovino turned to look at the butler behind him. He lied. "… I was just looking at these paintings." _His wounds… they have not fully healed, yet._ He noted.

"Oh, they're nothing special…" The butler denied, but the Italian could see that he is pleased by the given compliment.

"No, they're beautiful." It is true, the paintings are very well thought out, like… it is as if the butler, himself, doesn't want others to pry, to wonder what is the meaning behind the red roses and the masked people in the paintings.

"Thank you, Sir Lovino, how kind of you." Heracles alleged, making eye contact with Lovino and let out a small smile.

"Well… if you excused me, I would like to sleep in early today. I'm very tired." Lovino said, parting his eyes to the side, as he is not very good at lying to others. Ba-thump. Ba-thump. Ba-thump.

"Alright. Do you need me for anything, Sir Lovino?" The butler asked.

"No." The boy answered, absolutely, avoiding furthering their conversation.

"Well, then, have a good night, young sir." Heracles parted. Lovino turns to the door, quickly but smoothly slips out of the room, making sure to leave on a calm expression as he walked by Heracles. The butler is a really senseless person, just like the knight, thank god. _Phew._ He marched out of the door, through the Amber Lilies garden, into the front door, up the long, ruby staircase, and went right in to the knight's room. Lovino decided to stay in the master bedroom like he had said earlier, after all, and for certain to himself, it is best for him to relax, sleep, and forget the memories of the past for the night.

December 10th, 1762.

Drip. Drop. Drip. Drop. Drip. Drop. Drip. Drop. Drip. Drop. Drip. Drop. Drip. Drop. Drip. Drop.

_Rain…_

Outside of the window… it was not that cold; actually, except for a few cool presences of winds created by the stormy weather, and for some reason, specifically, today, a rain thunderstorm invaded the town of Seville. The bright, clear, cerulean blue sky, in a reflection of the immense water ocean under, turned into dull greys with hostile clouds skulking and prowling all over the place. Twirl, and twirl, and twirl. Aggressive rumblings of a disturbance within those inauspicious floating clouds, and then… Boom! A garish and immodest lightning bolt strike, shining in the distant sky; in a phosphorous yellow glow.

Lovino released a long, persistent breath, with hands cross behind his back, he had been standing behind the open glass window for a while now, the raindrops before him threaten to strewn all over his body. In Sicily, it was always beautiful in winter. White snow would shelter the entire town, in pastel whites, on water fountains, on statues, on houses, in all places, everywhere, entirely. Lovino closes his eyes, and recalling the lovely ice gems rupture into calm rainwater beads against his warm skin, the embrace of warmth in the growing sunrise when the day's begins, the snow angels, snow women, and snow men lining up in the quiet street corners… Has not seen those things in ages. Crazy Spanish weather, it's just consists of one season continuously prospered all year round, except for during winter, it will _sometimes_ rain for a short period of time.

_Signed…_

Lovino closes his eyes, his thoughts, cessation, and then begins to listens to the raindrops… _Drip… Drip… Drip… Feliciano and Grandpa Roma got injured by those British soldiers… Antonio went to war… That dream… Those faceless people... Then, the green eyed man…_ The boy bite his lips, a pained expression washed over him. He parted his eyes opens, half-lid, and staring off to the distant, whose blue skies colored in grey rain drops. Looking down, over at the front gate, is a… carriage.

A crowd of servants' rushes over to the front gate, with umbrellas in their hands; highs and lows in ravish blacks and whites. Bella excitedly paces over to the carriage's door, and, out from behind is a flash of crimson. The pretty maid shifts and pulls her umbrella over to the open door. The servants around bows and begins chanting something in Spanish. Drip… Drip… Drip… Lovino couldn't hear very well in the heavy rain shower, he watched the scenery before him with great curiosity despite him not knowing how to read the people's moving lips. Once the door closes… eyes, in emeralds, are the first thing that caught Lovino's attention.

The knight has return from Porto.

He looked the same, the same tanned skin, the same red lips, the same gentle expression, the same smile.

Lovino's check flushed a pretty cherry color, all of the sudden, out of nowhere; he felt impulsive embarrassment building up in him, about to burst even… How did it happen? He does not know why. He had been thinking, waiting, counting the seconds for the knight's return; of seconds would felt like hours, the minutes felt like days, the hours felt like years, and each passing day felt like eternity… He closes the window and funneled over to the bed, pulled up the blanket, jumped into the bed, and then secured his body with the warm blanket he had prepared. He shut close his eyes and pretend sleep had lapped over him. His cheeks, felt incredibly hot now that he is masked over by the blanket. Thump! Thump! Thump! His heart beat felt like someone is pounding on a drum with their bare arms, in fury. Thump! Thump! Thump! Some time passed, Lovino's breath hitched high up in his throat. He could hear the creak of the main entrance being opens, the loud noises of the servants' heavy footsteps and the knight's belongings with them, more noises, unpacking, talking, rustling, then, gentle footsteps from the outside of the master bedroom's door. _He is close._

… _Creakkk._

Lovino tightened his already snugly closed eyes, his right hand fists firmly onto the top sleeve of the blanket. He could hear the door closes softly; something was being set on a table, the knight's placid steps as he undresses himself out of his uniform, and then, his soft hum. After a moment passed, he felt the bed shifts before him, the knight was beside him, then leans over to his right ear and whispers, "I know you're awake, Lovino. Look at me or else I will steal a kiss from you, darling." True to his declaration Lovino felt the knight's movement turns to south, his lips and breath so close to him, inch by inch, the boy wilt himself to not make any sound. As soon as he felt hot breaths on him, Lovino twitched lightly, and releases his eyes, exposed, finally. Antonio grinned, motions him to sit upward, and makes way for Lovino to rouse from the bed beneath. A soon as the blanket come undone and the Italian boy is freed, the knight lunged at him, giving him a hug so tight, so close, it almost taken away Lovino's breath because of the compacted space between him and Antonio.

"I am home, Lovino, I have missed you dearly." Said the knight, breathing in his scent, missing the smell of Amber Lilies on the boy. "You were very lonely, were you not?"

"No, I am not." Lovino specified, a frowning pout forms on his lips.

Antonio nuzzled his neck. "I am sorry, Lovino; the war took longer than I have initially anticipated."

Lovino shrove the knight away, his hands crossed over to each other; he looked down onto the seemingly fascinating blanket on his lap, and comments, "Took you long enough, bastardo…"_To come home._

Antonio laughs and pats him on his head at his childishness, and then states, "I have something for you."

Lovino eyes lit up. _A present?_ Antonio muffed a smile, but couldn't help but let out a small chuckle, a rumbling, rich sound from his lips light up the room, the once cold, remote, isolated room. It used to be so empty, of little to no presence of people, here. His body moves downward to get something resting besides the bed's post. Lovino's face follows his shifting form. When Antonio turns to look at him… in the knight's hand, is… what appears to be a very strange, very odd, outlandish looking guitar.

"I wanted to give you something really special, since music is a big part of my life. I had this vihuela customized made like Orpheus', before I went to Porto, so, it is been a while. On my way home, I picked this up for you... Do you like it, Lovino?" He inquired, looking into the boy's amber eyes, searching for the answer to the question he asked.

"Uh... Thank you." Lovino didn't understand a word the knight's directs, but… a gift is a gift, after all. He is curious of this strange, of this new thing Antonio has given him. _What should I do? Is it hard to learn how to play this thing? What about the music notes for this? Do I just create songs by drumming random tunes? I bet Feliciano will love it…_

Antonio smile, knowingly. "... Lovino, let me tell you the story behind this, since you looked like you're confused… A long, long time ago, a woman, by the name of Eurydice, right on the day of her wedding to her to be betrothal husband, Orpheus, was trapped and cursed by the Cicones. When she walked through a wall of soaring grasses to her to-be husband, she was ensnared by a satyr. When looking for a path to freed herself of the satyr's clutches, the woman, herself, fallen into a hole filled with poison cobras, after days and night of struggling, she was then bitten by a cobra on the back of her feet. Some time passed, Eurydice was then founded by her beloved Orpheus, as he, was stunned with anguish and sorrow of her unexpected death, he pull the strings on an instrument of his, a vihuela, and tuned onward desolated and despondence melodies, so much, that all the gods and goddess cried out in grief-stricken tears along with him. The gods and goddess decided to help such a sad man, they told Orpheus to journeyed to the world of the dead, and advise him to played on his vihuela, like he always do. Through hard work and soul, his doleful music, finally, reached to the ears heart of Persephone and Hades, persuaded, they both granted his wife, Eurydice, to come back with him to mother earth, to their home, but, he must follow a rule, on one and only one rule; that Orpheus, himself, ought to stride forward before Eurydice's walking body, and, to not spare her a glance at all cost, not, when the lovers had stepped their feet in the world of the living. Orpheus agree and begins to walk forward, with his lover's after his footsteps, and for a long, long time, they walk, and walk, and walk, concern, distress, disquiet suppress him, and as soon as his feet touched the world of the living, he slightly tilt his head to have a small glance at Eurydice, fail to recall that, together, they are required to be in touched with world of the living, as husband and wife. In the end, she disappears, like dust, for eternity…" The knight turns to look at the Italian beside him. "If, I, were him… I would have gladly taken imprisonment of my own life, in exchange for you to live."

"What kind of cheesy ass line is that? You idiot." Lovino's voiced, his eyes twitched… In actuality, to be told, truth, he… kind of… misses the knight's, more than often, odd and random stories of the worlds around him.

"Ah, but it is true, my darling." Antonio expressed, stroking the boy's cheek, tenderly.

Lovino parts his lips open, just slightly, he whispers, quietly, "Hey…"

_Hey… I want to ask you… _

What? Does he want to know? That he had a delirium and sees dead people while the knight was away? The dream causes him many sleepless nights… only to be missing the company of others, then, him going to the new home given to Feliciano and Grandpa Roma… then… the greed eyed man, which result in him being almost violated. So… then… what? So what? He is a nobody, a boy of no importance, and that whatever he says meant nothing of worth. Lovino's face, saddened. _That I'm lonely… and nobody bothers to have a glance at me…_

"What it is?" The knight commended. _Is it… about that man?_

Lovino closes his lips. "Nothing."

"Alright, whenever you are ready, Lovino, I'm not forcing you..." Antonio's eyes, softened. A moment went by, he continued, remarking. "I am deeply sorry, Lovino. Our troops have lost…" His is emerald eyes, deepened, and then he looked genuinely into the boy's amber orbs. "But, I am able to find that man. The one who fired his gun at you..." He paused upon seeing Lovino's shoulder shuddered, a bit, just slightly, it is there, though.

"But, let us not talk about the bad times, I wanted you to only remember the good memories that are worthy of your thoughts, and forgets about the troubled recalls of the past." Antonio took his time to study the conflicting emotions running inside Lovino's eyes. He smile and said, "Lovino, two weeks from now, I am thinking of hosting a masquerade ball then… would you be interested in that?"

Lovino blinked, once, twice, three times, all of the blank, ghostly expressions on his face disappears, "Why would I be interested in something like that?"

"Did you know that your eyes always betrayed your actions and words?" Antonio stated the fact, a fact that only he knew, well, way too well. Lovino stayed silent, and releases a tiny unfair huffed breath. "It will be really fun, I promised."

The knight smile, once again, too many times already. He takes out a small container, of sort, inside the flap of his pocket and hand it to the Italian boy. Lovino creased his eyebrows together, questioning him. "I heard what happen." He said simply, nevertheless, the young boy could understand what he implied. _The green eyed man…_

"What is this?" Lovino queried, examining the round case with probing eyes.

Antonio glances at the container in his hand. "This is an ointment specially made for your skin, it has the ability to heal old scars and burns, fast, a little something from a friend of mine made in his homeland for you, Lovino."

Lovino incline his head to the side. "What's in it?"

"Oh, you know, the usual, special herb, vines, flowers, however, there is flaw in this medicine, though, and that is the side effect: this has the ability to make people fall in love, instantly, with the first person they see." The knight believed in a serious voice, winking at the Italian.

"Yea, right." Lovino rolled his eyes, he was not, in anyway, amused, at all. He takes back what he said earlier, this knight is just a plain old weirdo. Afterward, they continued to talk, and talk, and talk, of unplanned, trifling things, of unpredicted nothings. Of the worlds above, beyond, and over, until Antonio whispers a, "Sweet dreams, darling…", and then Lovino would close his eyes, sleeping in peace, defenselessly, without a precaution of his surrounds.

.

"_The point of a masquerade ball is to hide ourselves in masks and played as a different character, but, I think it is the point where we are truest of ourselves… Why don't we part our ways, for now, until tonight, Lovino? I would not want to ruin the fun of us knowing each other's identity before the ball starts."_

Two weeks flew by just like a snap of a hand, tonight of today, a masquerade ball was being held at Antonio's mansion. The queen, royalties, guards, and knights of the palace are expected and welcomed to be in his home when the sun sets. The servants are busily embellishing and garnishing colorful decorations around the knight's mansion. Chandelier lights, attractively bejeweled in raindrop crystals hanged on the ceiling. Then, when that is done, the servants then begins setting up a stage for one of tonight's entertainment event. The velvet red crimson blinds hides the stage behind it, inside, actors are enthusiastically dressing themselves and nervously preparing for their parts of the coming play. Expensive plates, forks, and spoons for the guests, Amber Lilies within glass vases for decor, chairs in white laces to be place here or there, and tables in rich mahogany moving around endlessly; there are a lot of work to be done.

Lovino sat on top of the knight's bed, actively listening to the servants, who are feverishly organizing things in circles below. Antonio is talking to the maid, Bella, of something about _'… making Lovino look nice… impressing the guests…'. _So forth. Lovino was kind of excited for the ball, but everything sounds so complex and intricate, from giving out invitations, to preparing the home, to the decorations, everything.

'_Isn't the knight tired at all?' _He pondered to himself, glancing at Antonio, who is, strangely, energetically speaking to the maid about the ball. Lovino got weary just from listening to their conversation.

"Bella, please assist Lovino, and don't forget to keep his character a secret. I want be surprise. The most entertaining thing in a masquerades ball, is, to figure out who is who behind their disguises. Don't you agree?" The knight inquired.

"Yes, of course, Sir Carriedo! I will try my best!" The maid grinned, then, a respectable bow at her master.

"Thank you, Bella; I will be downstairs if you need me." Antonio parted, throwing her an approved nod.

"No problem, Sir!" Bella countered.

Antonio turns to Lovino and smiles fondly, and tells him, "See you, tonight, Lovino."

"Alright." Lovino said, not sure if him dressing up is a good idea or not, but he really does not have a voice in this. And then, when Antonio left, the pretty maid, Bella, alternate and changes Lovino into some unusual costumes, one after another, and since she is a picky girl, nothing so far is good enough for her eyes. In the end, Lovino settled himself in something simple, something a bit comfy on him, black dress pants, and an overcoat, of course, finishing off, is a mask over his face. It is better to blend in with the other servants, since he is not used to the flashy and fancy clothes on him, he liked the simplicity of normal, regular things.

"Have fun, Sir Lovino! And, please be careful, young sir!" The maid parted. Lovino nodded at her and turns to the door.

Night came quicker than expected, Lovino quietly pace out of the master bedroom, slowly walk down the red stairway, and in front of him is a spectacle to feast his eyes on. The main hall at this time, now, is decked with people in stylish gowns, golden robes, and intrigue masks. The whole room was almost pitching black, as its only light source was the dimply chandeliers filled with flaming candles and many, many candles underneath, on top of tables, shined like stars in a deep night. Off to his left, are statues, in glass, of angels spreading their white wings. To his right, are, more tables, garlanded in colorful snacks, lively fruits, and gorgeous foods and deserts. Scattering throughout the room, are Amber Lilies, in crystals and gemstones vases. There is a band of musicians in the middle of the room, drumming away joy filled tunes and blissful melodies. The Infanta was standing before the musicians, listening to their music, attentively, with ears and eyes.

A vocal sound shoot through the guests' ears. "Welcome, everybody."

His voice… _Antonio._ The people's moving forms stands stilled, a muted silent shield the entire room, all of the attentions are on the lookout for the voice up ahead. All the way to the front, is a stage, the scarlet blinds discloses, and in the middle of the wooden floor, under the light, stood a man dressed in a fancy crimson robe, his hair, braided, and a barely there, thin mask in front of his obnoxiously bright, green, emerald eyes. _Oh god… the knight dressed as himself. How unpredictable._

Snapping out of his trance, Lovino walks into the crowd, beneath the red stairs he was standing on, and tries to blends in with everybody. "… Unfortunately, for us, as you all have heard, the war… we lost. Even though we were defeated, beaten, overcome, the British shall never take away our most cherish possession, and that is, our spirit, as they are far more stronger than the scorching fire. But, let us all, just leave this behind, a bad reminiscence, a mistake, and forget it, during your stay here, in the night." The guests begin clapping their hands at the knight's speech, then, when he left the stage… shadows. Five of them… The shadows walk through the darkness inside the stage's back and out, is a group of energetic actors.

"Hello! Tonight, here, we are going to perform a play for you all, our leaders and heroes." The group greeted the crowd. The crowd underneath them applauded.

"My name is Mathias." The tall, blonde man at the front stated, his face, was brilliantly bright, sheened with confident.

"I am Tino." The one next to him, a smaller Finnish man, said.

"Berwald." The intimidating man with glasses alleged, he was standing close to the Finnish actor.

"The name's Lukas, ladies." The young man at the end bows at the audience, winking at a pretty maid girl.

"Emil." Lastly, from the sound of his voice, he is a… boy, a boy with an emotionless voice; he was hiding himself behind the actor, Lukas.

They move to stands together in a huddle, and exclaim loudly, just enough so everybody could hear them. "We are The Nordic Brothers!" Another applause was given to them, louder this time.

"… Ladies and gentlemen, I have a secret to tell you all, a secret! Shh…! Did you all know? 'Mélite' by Pierre Corneille is created off of a real story. A real story of a real story, but it is still considered a fictional play." The tall, blonde man in front claimed, a spirited smirk spreads over his lips as he starts off the performance.

"It all begins with a letter written entirely with untrue hope." The actor, Tino, asserted.

"A dashing young man, name, Éraste falls in love with Mélite, a girl with witty charms and alluring charisma, a lover every men wanted for himself. They instantly form a deep bond once Éraste proclaim his secret love to Mélite, and from then, letters, songs, and sweet words begins exchanges between the two, a long, lasting relationship was born." Berward claimed, his face was still way too scary. The lights hitting on his glasses did not help, either.

Lukas cleared his throat, disrupting the crowd's eyes away from his too scary brother's face. "The innocence and blamelessness Éraste, then, persuaded his longtime lover, Mélite, to come with him, to meet up with his only best friend, Tircis. However, upon meeting him for the first time, Éraste's lover, Mélite, reduces herself to a blushing virgin in front of Tircis."

"… Overtaken by lonesomeness and mistrust, unsure of what is right or wrong, Éraste written some fake letters, in words of adorations, then, covertly directs the red notes to an acquaintance of his, Philandre, leading him to believe that love that are not there in the first play, are all from delicate hands of his friend's ex-lover, the untrustworthy girl, Mélite… Now, our story begins here, we hope you all will stay awake until the end." The boy with the boring voice requested, his eyes, already asleep, lifelessly. The show carry on, with the five actors playing all of the parts, strategically switching themselves back and forth, into the backgrounds, to narrating's, to the characters' interactions with one another in the story.

_In the beginning, the scheme was proven to be a victory for Éraste, his now rival, Tircis, perceives Philandre, once discovering the false love letters from Mélite is in his hands, as a man who holds Mélite's unpredicted heart. The hearbroken Tircis turns his eyes elsewhere in misery, away from others prying gaze, away from Mélite's world. On the other hand, when Tircis did not show up at their special meeting place, Mélite broke out in tears and collapses when she overhears of Tircis' disappearance, once recovers from her shock, she, too, fades out of thin air… Upon seeing his old lover, Mélite, suffers and isolated herself from the world, regretful and sorrowful, Éraste, whose heart consumed him, then, agonizes and blamed himself, a sudden illusion in his head, shown that he is in underworld, tortured by the devil. The shamed Éraste, once recovers from his confusion, then, set out to the world, and looks in every continents, countries, nations, cities, towns, for his lost ex-lover, Mélite, whose heart was forever sealed tight. When Éraste finds out the whereabouts of Mélite, only to discover that, his best friend, Tircis and old love, Mélite, are partaking a grand wedding, together. Nevertheless, he was happy for them, and acknowledges his wrongful doing, and strives for their forgiveness, then, afterwards, eventually weds Tircis' kind and considered sister, Cloris, a lovely girl with a gentle heart… as he have found a light in his dark world... _

When the play ended, the people are more than pleased, as they welcome The Nortic Brothers to join the party with them. The handsome group of men merges in beautifully with everybody else, their rich laughs and sophisticated speeches makes the guests love them even more. The music, played by the musician, was louder this time.

It is time for a dance, the slow, relaxing harmonies slowly entranced and mesmerized the people, and then they begin moving their bodies to the passive tunes. Times, unscrupulous memoirs, of the war, was quickly disremembered, as the guest was too drunk in the music's and the wines to care, leaving aside, the morning sickness of tomorrow is the only thing dwindling in their minds. More and more wines, foods, and people are coming, in elaborate and more impressive costumes and masts, the room, now, was swarming with cheerful guests, too happy to leave any time soon. Antonio was greeting and talking to the queen, every so often, a laugh would escape his lips. Lovino stood in a corner the entire time, feeling so out of place, so alone, of him, a poor and forgotten person of no importance was having a difficult time adjusting. He wanted to dance and talk and have fun, here, too, just like everybody else. But was too embarrass to do so… So, in the end, Lovino decided to walk over to the huge glass door, leading to the patio, and stay there. The night today, was awfully cold, as it is still considered a winter time, after all. The sky was lonely today, as there are little stars sparkling in the distant. The moon, a deserted half of a circle. His shoulder shuttered as a freezing wind current frowned over his body.

"Lovino, why do you not come inside and enjoy yourself?" A voice spoke to him from behind.

Lovino turned himself over, only to make eye contact with the knight. "I don't want to."

"Why not? I held this party for you, darling." Antonio observed, coming closer to Lovino.

The boy's head was down, eyes on his feet, quietly explains, "... I don't belong in there..."

"Lovino… you silly, little boy." Said the knight. Then, he wrapped both of his arms around Lovino's lithe body, craving his warmth, suddenly.

"… How do you know it was me that is behind this mask?" The boy asked. How can he see through that black darkness?... His disguise was pretty good, too…

Antonio only laughs at his statement. "… Sometimes, people cannot handle the truth, Lovino, so lies are created to give them false happiness. But, you, you are always yourself, no matter which masks that you are under. As for me dressing like myself, I am afraid that you would not be able to see me."

Lovino stayed silent, he is not a talkative person, all of this time, besides, the knight's body, was shockingly; very warm, just like a blanket, against these unexpected winds.

Antonio started humming quietly, then, low murmurs of words begin springing out of his lips. Lovino must have wanted to dance. _"… If you love me, if sighs… sol for me, gentle shepherd, I dolor de 'your martyrs…"_ It was simple as that, they dance, with Antonio leading, and Lovino follow suits behind his steps. Lovino is an awful dancer, but, he is very cute, so it is alright, he will teach him to dance at another time. Ouch. Lovino just step on his right foot. _"I delight of your love, but if you think insole,I owe you Riamar…"_ The knight enjoyed the warmth of Lovino against him, his skin, so smooth under his caress, his amber eyes, shining through the darkness, their only light. _"Pastorello, you are subject, easily t'ingannar, beautiful purple rose, today Silvia choose,"_ Antonio gives Lovino a quick, playful peck on his cheeks, loving how they turned pink once he inches himself away. _"Under the guise of the plug, doman then despise, but the men on board, for me it does not follow…"_ Lovino pouted, but continue to dance with the irritating knight, nevertheless. Antonio turned Lovino over. _Twist._ _"Not because I like the lily… The other flowers sprezzerò…."_ When the song ended, Lovino's back was against the wall, Antonio's lips was on him.

Once the ball ended, and all of the guests are gone, the servants then, once again, industriously, dotted themselves throughout the whole house and begins scrubbing and dusting the disorderly mess. Up the long ruby, red stairway, through a long hall of paintings, to the right, is the room of the knight's. There are no servants brave enough to come knocking, disturbing their master and his adored Italian lover at this time of the night. Into the door, the room inside was barely lilted by a scarcely burning candle stand on top of a drawer next to the bed. Their masks, the knight's boots, and Lovino's shoes was messy thrown randomly onto the floor that led to the bed, leaving a trail behind their steps.

"Lovino…" Antonio said in a soft voice, afraid to scare Lovino away. He moves to give the boy a second kiss, shallower, more deprived, more wants, than before. He helps Lovino to lied on the bed, making sure that a pillow rests under his small body, and carry on his deep kisses. The boy heart's speed up, when he felt the knight's wet tongue against his lips. _Ba-thump! Ba-thump! Ba-thump!_ Lovino allowed Antonio's access into himself; he is slowly getting used to this feeling, of being connected with him, of accepting him… Oh, there it is… this tongue, exploring every inches of him. Lovino opens his eyes, only to be exchanging headed gaze with the knight's emerald eyes.

The boy's shoulder jumped a bit when the top button of his shirt comes undone. Antonio held him up to remove his black outerwear, only to have Lovino pinned up against the bed once again. His neck… Lovino could feel the knight's mouth and lips on his neck, all over, entirely, he felt vulnerable, and bare.

Antonio removes his person, and then looked into Lovino's eyes, pleading, "Tonight, can we…?" The boy was quiet, he was unsure of what to say, or do, every time his lips opens, only moans and gasps escapes him, and not once, can he answer the question. "You don't have to say anything, Lovino." Antonio continue kissing, and kissing, and kissing the boy's lips, until they turned into a deep red color. Buttons after buttons, after buttons, after buttons, unfastened, and then open… after a while, both of their shirts are gone, pushes over the bed, and helplessly falls on top of the floor, just like others… leaving only their flesh against each other, the knight's dark skin against the boy's pale body, Lovino panicked when Antonio move downward, away from his sight, of sudden timid, a terror comes to him. _The green eyed man… _him overpowering Lovino, on top of him… was forcing himself on to him… Antonio paused at the dead silent coming from Lovino, he turns to look into the Italian's amber eyes, his eyes told him that he is in fright, afraid, petrified.

"I'm sorry that I scared you, Lovino, I will not do any more things that will make you uncomfortable." Antonio removes himself away from Lovino, then, for today, he decided to just cuddle up with his adorable lover. He motioned Lovino to lay on his chest, of which, the Italian, unsure of himself, complied awkwardly, since the knight promise beforehand that he won't do anything funny to him. Antonio wraps his right arm over the boy's back, giving gentle strokes on him to calm his mad heart's beats. He move over and kisses Lovino on his forehead.

After a moment, the boy opens his lips, asking, "Hey… teach me how to handle a sword." All of this would not have happened if Lovino was strong.

"Why?" The knight questioned, then remarks, "I like the way you are, Lovino."

Lovino was glad that the burning candle stand beside Antonio was out cold, because, his cheeks are flaming red with embarrassment. "Shut up."

"Hnn… For now, let us just sleep the young night away, Lovino, I'm sure you are exhausted." The knight suggests, shifting himself, and drape the blanket over him and the boy.

"You…" Antonio smile, beside him, he could sense that Lovino is pouting inside the darkness.

"Have a good night, pajarito."

.

Hisss…!

Hisss…!

Hisss…!

With his tail behind him, slithering back and forth, the snake hastily slides his body through a long wall of grasses, leaves, bushes, plants, trees, with rapidity, with swiftness. He glances back, and quickly turns his head forward, continuing on his way to a safe destination. Behind him, is an eagle, whose eyes were so green, so dark, and so sinister, like the night before him. Slide. Slide. Slide. To where he does not know, but he must run, running away from the eagle no matter what.

Then.

Abruptly.

With a flap of the eagle's right wing, the snake 's body sprung right into the sky, its tail wiggled back and forth for land, for balance, his home. 'Hisss!' The snake cried as the beak of the eagle pierces through his scale, into his bones. His body dropped on top of the ground; finally, he shakes his tail once more and carry on gliding forth. The red blood spilled from his body engraved on the green dirt ground, staining the grasses, leaves, bushes, plants, trees with crimson lines.

'Hisss! Hisss! Hisss!'

"Help me! Help me! Help me!" He sobbed out loud, begging for his life, for a savior.

The eagle swooped down, its talons' prick through the snake's body, playing with him, like a toy, more than a food filling up his hunger… Chhh! More, and more, and more, fresh wounds strewn and distributed all over the snake's slick body. The snake was frightened; horrified, as more and more of his blood left his body. His head felt light like a feather, not good, the vision before him blurred out, the green scenery distorts into white, faded out colors. He could not see straight, but he kept slip and glide on, hoping for a blockage, a camouflaged, a secured cave, away from this dangerous eagle. On the snake's back, he felt the presence of the eagle closing in on him, with his sharp talons perfectly aimed, his dark green eyes on him, his wings flapping madly besides him.

Hisss…! Hisss…! Hisss…! Mindlessly, without thought, without care of his pride, he yells, "Big Alfred! Big Alfred! Big Alfred!"

A few more slides and slithers, up ahead, is a standing sunflower. The snake quickly glides faster forth, and forth, approaching the yellow flower, and hid its body behind the flower's green leafs. The sunflower stands tall, and despite some of its yellow petals had been blown away by the wind, stood proudly, protecting the snake.

The eagle, interrupted, his fluttering wings stop midway, and landed at a stop spot in front of the sunflower. His sharp green eyes glared at the yellow flower, forceful, demanding him to separate his leaves to the side, away, for him to get to his prey of the night.

"Move away, to anywhere else, please, Sir Jones. Again, you and I have no business with one another, and I do not wish to fight you." The eagle specified; his eyes on the green snake behind the sunflower.

The sunflower stayed in his spot, challenging the obviously stronger opponent, his will was stronger than his weak body. "I would die, for him to live. Fight me."

"You are a such a stubborn man, Sir Jones. I am not in a mood for games." The eagle commented; his calm patience grew delicately as each second's fluttered by.

"As I, too. I know I will not live through this night… but, I do not have any regret, because I died in peace knowing I gave my all, protecting him." The sunflower declared, his yellow petals shined through the dark night, giving life to dead other grasses, leaves, bushes, plants, and trees.

The eagle step forth, its beak begins gripping and tearing out the yellow petals of the sunflower, but the sunflower persisted. As long as his roots has not been plucked, he will continue on defending the snake.

Pluck.

Pluck.

Pluck.

The other hiding animals and plants around them, begins mourning for the brave sunflower… questioning, '_Why is he protecting the coward snake?'_ Let the weakling die. Pluck. Pluck. Pluck… Upon reaching the last petal, the eagle stops. He did not want such a beautiful flower to withered away.

"I did not do this for you, Arthur. Thanks to him, you live." The eagle glared at the green snake one last time before flying off to the dark sky with his full wings.

The sunflower's fallen petals under his green leaves, wilted, left, gone, as if, he is not lonely, as he is not awaited for days to ends, for Helius' return, no more. He does not smell of his own usual scent any longer. The snake's head was down, in disgrace and embarrassment, as he coiled his body around the sunflower, protecting him from the cold night, waiting for the night to end, for them to greet the morning of tomorrow.

Together…

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**_Author's Note_**: It will be a while for the next chapter to show up, because of school and a bunch of other tests. I am sorry. But, for now... An update! :)


	8. A Fool

_**Author's Note**_: An update! :D

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**_Chapter 8_**: A Fool

* * *

The red velvet blinds, loosened, and detached themselves to the sides, from behind screens, is a dark stage. Colored lights, in phosphorous yellow hues, hundreds of thousands of them, focus their intense glimmer on the front's platform. Right into the lights, are the actors, narrating what is happening so far with the story by exchanging ambiguous dialogues with one another. Everybody was confused; no one knows what will happen next. It was the opening of Scene Two, Act number Three.

"_The dawn of tomorrow, in the back slump of the town, Seville … you and your men will attack the entire civilians there, you got everything?"_

"_Yes. I will remember that."_

"… _So you failed… It is alright, I have another plan…"_

"_I am sorry, I am a weak man."_

"_I shall fight him myself here."_

"_No, you must not… he is too strong."_

"_Then, help me … Hold him back for as long as you can in Porto."_

"_I will. Please be careful."_

Once again, the night was dark, but in this particular night, the sky was fair in a strange light from the moon, it was too equivocal, too nebulous, too vague. The full moon was tinged overhead, giving an escape path for wrongful men, for men who are too ashamed to face their reality; a false illusion, a small ray of hope, for a tiny amount of redemption. The glowing eyes of animals' secreted in bushes and trees blinked as a figure ran passed them in this black asylum. They follow the shadow's track with snooping wonders. _Who is this human? Why is he running around in this dark of a night?… Why is he here in the first place?_ Through the darkness, the animals could tell that the shadow belonged to a man. A man with dirty blonde locks and green eyes…

The man, instead of worrying about the creatures surrounds him; his interest was on his back. Behind him, are two orbs of piercing, shrill, emerald eyes on his footpath… observing and memorizing his every move, his every step, his breathing, his fear, his thrashing heart, he felt like his whole being was being shred apart, only to have his intestines to be looked upon for pleasure. The man stops. There is a thin blade entrenched on his upper shoulder. Then, he could feel his body being flung into the wide sky like he is some sort of insect. He bites his lips, hard, the sting was excruciatingly real, so heartrendingly painful, so genuine, that he let out a yelp of agony passes his then bitten lips. As soon as his body landed back onto the solid ground, on top of the soft, green grasses, he tries to lift himself upward, toward the soaring sky of powdered black ink. He continues to run, crippling with a fatal wound. His red blood stained the green grasses under his feet; his track, into a continuous line of crimson. Nevertheless, he ignored the beautiful red color on his footsteps, the pain on his upper shoulder, the distress, the anxiety in his heart.

"Help me! Help me! Help me!" He finally called. Who is there to save him? He is a guilty man. An inconsiderate, coldblooded, tyrannical man that he is… But…Will _he_ come to him? Despite his cruel words, his egotistical thoughts, his detrimental ways of limiting his own needs only to himself… He turns to look at his back. The sharp emerald eyes, hiding behind the trees and leaves, so chillingly dark, like the night in the background. Those unsettling eyes, which felt like a void, the unknown, trying to suck dry out his soul; if he had any to begin with. Maybe he is in hell, maybe he is in heaven, maybe he is in mother earth, maybe those eyes belong to the grim reaper, maybe those eyes belongs to the angel of heavens above, maybe those eyes belongs to a devil who detest his existence, who knows?

The green eyed man closes his seeing orbs and cries, frantically, dreadfully, hysterically, "Big Alfred! Big Alfred! Big Alfred!" Louder, bolder, daring. He is going against the gods above, defies with nature's laws, today, he is going to die, but his heart is beating, his mind refuse to shut tight… He is fearful of death, of a coward is he. But, what is there for a criminal like him? For a pirate, for a crooked bandit, for a thief of the sea, he either takes all of the treasures to himself, or forever running away from justice, hiding in seclusion from the time without end… Where in the world is that man? The fool under his control, listening, heeding, attending to his every command? Where is he?... Where is he?... Where is he?!

As if _he_ could hear his calling, up ahead, is a young man, dressed in a British uniform, waiting for the green eyed man's coming. The man's ever traitorous green eyes lit up. His last follower, a British soldier, attended to his needs, once more. He looks back behind him, the sharp emerald eyes are still after him, watching, waiting for an open opportunity to attack. He stops his running, slowly, coming to a short stop in front of the soldier. He clutched onto the injury on his upper shoulder for a bit of relief. "Kill him." Directed the man.

"I will." Assured the soldier, his right hand crossed over to his heart. After hearing his promise, the green eyed man promptly hiked over to a tree, and rests his tired body on its brown trunk. After the green eyed man is out of the danger site, the soldier stand still and waited for the arrival of the emerald eyes in the shadows to come out to the moon's light. He pulls out his blade, which is hidden inside the scabbard on his back. And then, he waited. And waited. And waited.

After sometimes of a never ending waiting episode, the soldier could feel the emerald eyes opens its shell, as wide as possible, as round and enormous like the moon atop, in the prosperous blackness before him. They were just in one place the whole time, in the distant, right in front of him, just observing him and the green eyed man. The emerald orbs, veiled in the dark, tired of this watching game, and decided to move forward, into the moon's light in the night's life. The emerald eyes belonged to a man, dressed in a Spanish uniform, a red cape on his back, on his front attires are brooches of recognitions and gratitude, he is a knight of higher rank, an aristocrat, a royalty. The man was just strolling, toward the soldier, with a calm attitude. Once in front of the soldier, the knight's eyes, tightening, to almost a thin line, he announces, "Move away, to anywhere else, please, Sir Jones. Again, you and I have no business with one another, and I do not wish to fight you."

"I would die, for him to live. Fight me." The soldier pronounced, his back was straight, his blue eyes sheen with determination, that he will defeats this knight of higher rank, of an aristocrat, standing before him.

The knight stiffed a laugh at his childlike avowal. "You are such a stubborn man, Sir Jones. I am not in a mood for games."

"As I, too. I know I will not live through this night… but, I do not have any regret, because I died in peace knowing I gave my all, protecting him." _What a fool._ The soldier's eyes, like his, but different, his blue eyes was more pure, more innocence, more goodness, less contaminated, less soiled, less tainted, than the knight's dark ones.

The knight unsheathes his sleeping sword in the case handle beside his right hip. The soldier knows his weakness, and he, the same to him. The knight cannot fight well in the light; and, in opposition of that, the soldier cannot fight well in the dark. However, in this particular night, the dark scenery was consumed by the moon's silver light. The knight is at a bigger disadvantage than his opponent. Regardless of the situation he is in, he charged forward, wanting to finish this off as soon as possible, since he wanted to relishes his beautiful night of sleep soon. The soldier, startled by the sudden outburst, swipes his sword across the knight's upper body, his eyes' enlarged, as he is just attacking a mirage image of his opponent. From his left side, he could feel the knight's blade strike a blow. The soldier duck forward and swiftly moves away from his attacked spot. _Ouch._ He looks down, there was an open wound on his stomach…. _How? What? When…?_

"Damn it." The soldier cussed underneath his breath of surprise. To his right, on his behind, he could hear the instantaneous footsteps of the knight's, ready for another offensive. He turns over, and makes eye contact with the knight's, and slammed his sword against his coming blade. The knight's rusty blade cracked a bit, under the pressure. In distraction of his splintered blade, the knight's eyes falters a bit, the soldier took his opportunity, and swing his left hand upward, balled into a tight fist, and stroke across his tanned face. This was a cowardly move, but the soldier was desperate, of saving the green eyed man, his one sided love. There is no mark on the knight's face, but the soldier could see it, from under his mask of dead skin, his blood gathered in one spot, a light burnt red bruise sprouted its petals underneath his lie. From then, in every weakened opening, through every tiny, little flaw, the soldier aimed for the knight's face; his one true flaw. His sword shifts slightly, the soldier then attempts another swing across the knight's face. The knight, retaliate, as his eyes adjust to the light, he graciously drop the attack approaching from his left. For a swift second, he turns his eyes up, slightly, to have a look at the full moon above of him. In an exceptionally beautiful night like this, it reminds him of the tale of Metztli, a humble divinity of insects who botched the idea of surrendering his living body to become the burning sun, of which, he would have been worshipped and admired by the folks for many, many generations, and, as an alternative, a last resort to fame, becomes the lonesome moon, secreted in the darkest of night; an energy source for prudent ogres and fearsome giants.

Suddenly, an interlude, the soldier appears in his back, out of nowhere, masked by the light, and makes a quick cut on the knight's left shoulder. As the knight turns his back for defense, the soldier manages to make another attack, a small cut on his right cheek. The knight, this time around, grew defensive, and drifts his attention upward, freeing his whole body from protection. He was quick on his feet, to promptly dodge the soldier's third strike with a cool facade. The knight's impatient finally grew on him, he is tired of this cat and mouse game, and he wanted some sleep. _Now._ He switches the blade in his right hand to his left hand. In his mind, he recalls the technique he had copied from the old captain he used to work under for as a lowly, pitiful cabin boy. _How does it go again?_ Is it twirls, twirl, twist, and then adjust the blade at a clockwise angle…? See, his old age does get to him, sometimes. _Oh_. Now, he remembers. Here comes the foolish soldier with his desperate attacks.

True to some of his words, the knight twirl his blade several times, twist it in his hand, feeling the warmth of the metal handle, memorizing the sensation of his dear blade, vivaciously pulsing with life, and, lastly, connects with him; becoming one with him. The blade was directing him; it was telling him how to move, how to control his body, how to make his swing fly, fighting against the wind. The knight begins to dance, his body, was light, rapid, and instant, from then, his movements are transfer into his blade, of which, its assaults, comes right into the wind of the incoming soldier. His cuts and incisions on the soldier's are deep, but, not enough to cause any long term inner damages. But the foolish soldier insisted to fight. His whole body, scratch from head to toe, his clothes was torn apart, red slits of dithering skin appears, and lastly, a flood of blood soaked his pale form. After losing so much blood in such a short period of time, the soldier drops his sword, but he vows to stand tall no matter what. The knight continues his dance.

… _Why is he still standing…?_

The knight signed, too tired, and too bored, and ended up casting the soldier out of his sight by himself. He smile, turns over, his grip on his sword tighten up as his eyes comes in contact with his old friend, the perfidious green eyed man. The knight licks his lips, savoring in the perfume of frights exuded off of the man standing not too far away from him. He take a step forward, toward the green eyed man, with the intention to kill him off here, in this secluded forest, where no one would remember such a falsehearted man.

The knight takes a step forth. Then, a second step. Then, a third step. Standing motionlessly, he discontinues his forth step. A blood stained hand was latched onto the knight's right foot, successfully stopping him, it was the foolish soldier, and, out of breath, he whispers,_ "Where do you think you're going?" _He garbled over some words in his statement, as his mind is playing tricks with himself, he is but out cold from the blood's departing away from his body. The soldier's animal friends grouped around the fight scene between him and the knight. They wail for their foolish friend, they are crying out for him, they are pursuing him to give up on this meaningless fight. The knight cracks his eyes over his back to look behind him, twists his sharp blade backward and swing, effectively cutting off three fingers of the unconscious soldier. The knight shrugged his shoulder, and continues on. His emerald eyes, heavy, and dropping with sleep, the vision before him blurred out a bit... Now, the green eyed man…

… Except…

"… _Hey… come back, I am not done yet."_ Said the soldier. More blood. More blood is leaving his body. He coughs up so much blood for such a thin looking man. His face, like a burn out fire, a white page of a blank book, dislocates of his childish confident, he is fighting the knight with a subconscious mind. His chest, rise up and inward, struggling for whatever that is left in him as he quietly stands up by himself, his knees juddering violently, he could barely hold up his sword.

The knight turn back to his behind, eyeing at the foolish soldier who refuse to give up despite knowing who is victorious in this fight. He should not be able to stand. Then… How?... Why? "Why must you play the fool, be the fool?" Questioned the knight, looking at the unconscious soldier before him, whose eyes where bluer than any ocean he had ever sailed across. The only thing that is left of the soldier, are his open eyes, staring involuntarily at the green eyed man standing in front of the tree's trunk in the far away distant.

Sleep has finally overpowered the knight's mind. "I did not do this for you, Arthur. Thanks to him, you live." He emphasized the last sentence, impudently, he is not afraid of his own words. The man walks forward, passing the soldier, his face crystal clear of emotions; of calm like the ocean waves, but the heat radiate off of his body speaks otherwise, like igneous magma impend to eruptions under the raging sun. There is a belief, that, the witches practice their dark magic under the white moon, and he could have never agreed more. The knight put his blade back inside the sheath hanged besides his hip, remains walking, enjoying the festive red color spilled all over the inactive, dead to the world greens. As if forgetting why he is even here in the first place, he stop his stirring form, recalling a memory, of the reason why he was here, turns his whole body over, eyeing the green eyed man standing in front of the tree's trunk, and states, "Before we must part to be on our own ways, I have to tell you something, listen well and do not forget this, my dear old friend, if you ever come near Lovino again... hnn… well, let us not talk about unpleasant things, since it is such a lovely night out here. I am sure you and your companion, Sir Jones, are exhausted. Have a good night." And then, just like that, the knight was gone, as if he had becomes an eagle, grew a pair of wings, and flew off, not caring for his prey as he was too tired to fight for the night. The soldier could no longer stands so tall and mighty, his body jerked, twitched, and spasm all over, then, his whole being tumbles on top of the ground, sloppily and gracelessly. A fallen hero. An idiotic fool.

The green eyed man witnessed and listened to the fight the entire time, he could hear the soldier's assertion, the knight's threat, he could feel Big Alfred's in great pain, in desperation, not because of the fight that he could not have possibly overcome, but for _him_, a runway, gutless, wicked man. The green eyed man's two foot walks forth, involuntarily, to the soldier, kneels down, besides him, silently stroking his blonde hair. After some time of recovering, consciousness finally comes back to the soldier, he turns to the man sitting alongside him, and asks, "… Why are you crying…?"

"_You fool_."

"… Arthur… a man must never cry in front of another… it is a sign of great weakness..." Despite his matured flaws, of his grown envy, his ripened age, the green eyed man is just a child at heart.

"I am weak..." The green eyed man answered, as another tear drop misleads him once more. The soldier just laughs, and stokes away the flaw on the man's face... Then, everything, the gloomy scenery lilted up by the moon's light, the red covered green grasses, the animals surround the soldier, are shields in great darkness once more…

When the play before them is over, the audience from under the stage stood up and gave The Nordic Brothers a standing ovation, for another job well done on this performance. They could feel the raw emotions, the strong words, the feelings of each of the main characters; it was a superb act, down to every bit of details. Amber Lilies, red roses, purple orchids, tulips, blue violets, forget-me-nots, and daisies, were thrown on the stage's floor as a symbolism of their appreciation for the spectacular show tonight.

.

"… Antonio, I want you back."

"What in the world are you talking about, dear Abel?"

"Those times… I know you are using me as a decoy to satisfy your wants and needs for the boy."

"I am sorry; I do not know what you are implying."

"He does not love you, in the same way that I to you. Why must you wasted and given up so much time and energy on him?"

"The heat has gotten to you, Abel, you should return to your chamber for the time being."

"… I will stand and wait for you, gladly, until I can longer have a mind of my own; for as long as your so call 'love' will last. I shall never give up on you, Antonio…"

_Ah… _

_So, this is the runt that Antonio falls 'madly in love with'? _

_God must be joking._

"… Remember, big brother, you must behave yourself at all times, since, you are now a servant of the Carriedo's household. Master Antonio Fernandez Carriedo's words are absolute, just think of this… like the times we are _on board_, and, you will be fine." Whispered the pretty maid, Bella, as she showed the taller man how things around the mansion work.

Recently, a lot of the servants in the Carriedo's household could either no longer work or gone home to stay with their love ones, so, today, a barely born morning, the mansion is having an oriental meeting for newcomers. The maids and butlers in the main room are actively presenting the new employers their assigned jobs, what they should do in case of emergencies, how to greet the guests, the time they are required to work, and so forth.

"… Try to not disturb Sir Carriedo when he is with Sir Lovino, unless it is an urgent matter." Said one of the maids.

"Please clean the master's bedroom regularly, and be as quiet as possible. Thank you." Stated the butler next to the maid.

"… Do not speak unless you are spoken to... Learn the proper etiquettes and protocols in this house and you will be fine." Alleged the master's personal butler, Heracles, in the middle.

While all of this is happening, up the long, ruby, red stairway, through a gallery hall of intriguing paintings and delicate vases, is the master bedroom. Once the white door unseals itself, inside, spotted a man in his mid-twenties, undressing himself out of his sleep garments, and into his rich robe. When he finishes tidying himself, and with one last look in the mirror, he turns to face the bed stood in the middle. Humming in contentment, as his steps are closing in the enormous bedstead, when reaches his destination, he unveils the velvet silk blinds, and out from behind, is a slumbering boy. This remind him of a scene of the princess sleeping in '_La Belle au Bois Dormant'_ , he excitedly pondered to himself.

"I shall wake you up with my kiss." The knight declared playfully. He settled his body on top of the soft mattress, leans over, then, his both of his hands on either side of the Italian boy's person.

With his eyebrows' clutching together in an unruly manner, the boy wines, "… No thanks. I am awake." His face showed signs of grouchiness, _his usual facade_, as he opened his amber eyes and scowled at the knight on him.

"Good morning, sunshine." The knight smiles brilliantly as he help tows Lovino's body upward.

"Morning." The boy signed, an annoyed expression spreads over him as the knight held up his left hand and kisses it with affection.

The knight sat in the bed for a moment, just staring into Lovino's sleepy amber eyes. The Italian covers his mouth as he yawned tiredly; the cloud of misty smoke begins to get clearer and clearer before him. Then, a voice brought him to actual awakening, "… I have been thinking, about that night, when you said you wanted to learn how to control a sword… would you like me to teach you, Lovino?"

The boy's eyes lit up, fully aware of his surrounding, finally, his face turns astonish for a moment as the knight's face becomes crystal clear afore his eyes. "Isn't obvious? Yes."

"Alright, I will do that then… later… but first, it is time for your breakfast, sweetheart." The knight addresses Lovino using a new nickname and smiled, amusingly, as the boy's eyes hardened at him. Then, he teasingly adds a, "I will teach you the basics once you finish your meal…" To stilled Lovino down. He got up and strolls over to the glass table, taking the metal tray on top of the stand back with him, then, sits back down on the spot next to Lovino. When the silver lid comes undone, inside the container is a bowl of tomato soup and bread's slices lining around it. The knight pick up a spoon resting on the left side of the porcelain bowl, gathered up a small sip of the hot red soup, and held it against Lovino's lips. "Have a taste." The man recommended. The young Italian, on the other hand, only glared into the knight's clueless and cheery emerald eyes, a pink color blossomed over his youthful face, embarrassment written all over him. But, nevertheless, he let his lips slip open, faintly, for the invasion of the tomato soup inside… Kind of salty, but it is quite delicious.

"Is it good?" He asked; the spoon in his hand comes back down to the porcelain bowl for another serving of red tomato soup.

"… Uh… yes. It is very good." Lovino answered, uneasily, and as soon as he finishes the sentence, the second spoonful of soup is then press against his lips. He felt like a spoiled child, being spoon-fed, and everything. _You know I have hands right?_ He glared at the knight, but… food is food, after all, and he is very hungry at the moment… _Weird knight._

When Lovino finish his breakfast, the knight told him "to come along" with him to a special place "filled with charms and enchantment". Great, what is it this time? After Lovino is done with his morning routine, the knight then leads Lovino out of the master bedroom, down the red stairs, through the Amber Lilies garden, and then, to the room to the left of the cobblestones walkway. Once the knight unlock the door for his younger companion, the first thing that comes alive are the smooth white floor, the tiles are so blindingly bright, that Lovino is having trouble adjusting his vision. When Lovino's eyes are set on the environment before him, he inhaled in awed at the displays up front. On the ceilings above, are candles, illuminating, on top of decadent jewel drops crystals, of which, the rich, colorful gems are dangling and jiggling with life as the light's eyes are on them. There are glass windows, probably hundreds of, with their velvet red screens parted shyly to the side, for the many chains of harmonious lights outside of the window to have a peek inside. All the way at the back, is a red staircase, leading up to somewhere, Lovino did not know. On the ceiling, passes the chandelier lights, all the way down the spaces between the glasses windows; are paintings of bare children and angels carrying rosy silk blinds, embracing, and singing around the Amber Lilies under. Lovino shifts his eyes downward, to the far right corner, is, the new butler, Abel, playing the Amati, listening for the right pitch, and the proviso next to him, Roderich, string the keys of the Arpicembalo along with his imperfected melodious tune. This was a lovely sight and all, but…

Lovino turns to look at the knight behind him and complains, "… I thought you are going to teach me how to fight with a sword."

The knight smiles gently, admiring the lilies in the Italian's amber eyes, and answers, "Of course, dear Lovino. We are here to learn the beginning segment."

The knight chance his head to the new butler and the proviso, smile and raises his right hand to signal them to start playing their music. This time around, their tunes completely synch with one another, a flawless harmony to welcome the morning sky.

The knight turn over to face the Italian, his right hand behind his back, body slightly tilt downward, held up his left hand, he then, asks the boy in a soft voice, "May I have this dance with you, Lovino?"

The shorter boy eyed him in skeptics, signed, and accepted the knight's proposing hand._ 'Why not?' _He told himself, surrendering his right hand to the tall Spanish man.

The knight starts off the dance by stepping forward by using his left foot. "Sword fighting is like dancing, Lovino, the smoother, more precise your flow is, the faster, and sharper your blade becomes." He moves his body toward Lovino's a bit, and then, shifts to the right side with his right foot. His left foot slides to the side so it is beside his right foot. Seeing Lovino's face in confusion, the knight smiles; his right foot steps back, giving the boy some space. Moving on to more complex moves, the knight twists Lovino around, only to carefully catching his hands once against in his own. Lovino was surprise by the sudden change that he did not notice his surrounding, that his right foot lands on top of the knight without him noticing. The knight takes several more steps backward, guiding the small Italian with him. He slides his right foot toward his left foot, urging Lovino to join his rhythmic movements. He twists Lovino again, this time, he was a bit more close to him, more intimate, more touches and caress was open to his advantages.

"There are many types of Spanish's dance forms, for example, the ballets that are influence by the Italian, the Balletto alle spagnuolo, Spagnoletto, Canario. And many, many more around the worlds; the Canary, Moresque, Alman, the Ballo, the Balli, the Branle, the Pavan, the Galliard, Tordion, the Volta, Coranto, Gavotte, Torneo, Battaglia, … I could go on forever, but I do not want to bore you with such things. So for today, I shall teach you how to waltz, it is very easy to memorizes the steps once you got used to it." The music change into a more urgent tone, the knight laughs playfully then twirls Lovino out of his hand, himself, taken some more steps back. He glides back to the boy with ease; his body was as smooth as water, silently asking for their dance to prolong. Lovino did not understand this offer though; he just thought that the knight is being weird once more. Resuming their joint hands, the knight take some steps backward, then forth, then backward, this was not part of the waltz, though, in actuality, the dance was already over, but he just like being with Lovino. _Ouch._ He just steps on his left foot._ Lovino, you careless, little boy…_

An idea formed in the knight's head, he smirked evilly, and then, makes eye contact with his young dance partner. "From now on, every time you messed up, I will kiss you as punishment. Change your form along with me, do not go fight with my movements, like, the wind; you should never go against it, embrace it if you will, it goes like this: one-two-three, one-two-three, one-two-three." Lovino follow suit from then, too mortify of the thought that the new butler and the proviso will see something embarrassing of him and the knight.

The knight, on the other hand, could only chuckles as Lovino perfected his movements into his. He tilts his head to the right side of the boy's ear, and friskily whispers, "Yes. Just like that. One-two-three, one-two-three, one-two-three. You are such a good learner, Lovino." Lovino's face was a flushed pink color, his ears actually turns scarlet red.

_Stupid knight..._

… His back…

Lovino could feel someone was glaring at him, he turns to have a look at his back; the proviso's and the new butler's music are still playing and dancing with one another. Is he just imagining things? Well, he, _kind of_, did it a lot lately…

The knight's sudden voice wedged Lovino's attention, breaking him out of whatever that he is thinking. "… This chamber, here, is a replica of the ball room in Charles Perrault's '_Cendrillon, ou La petite Pantoufle de Verre'_, though, I added a few more personal touches to make it more like our love story, and, instead of the peasant girl, Cinderella, and the Prince, it is about the Infanta's servant, Lovino, and the Knight."

The Italian could only roll his eyes at the knight's usual anomalous and embarrassing declaration of affection for him.

.

Behind the ballroom, is an auditorium, a room for fencing, maybe, the floor this time around, is make off of a wooden surface, there are two giant windows on the opposite side of each other, the room's walls are simple white in color for less distractions. In the middle, are some black circles tinted on the floors… probably a spot to practice fencing? Throughout the room, are mahogany timber poles, so tall that they touched the ceiling's top.

The knight treads over to a closet, of sort, and pulls out some clothing. "Here, Lovino, dress yourself into this uniform." He placed the set of white apparels and accessories into Lovino's arms.

The Italian looks around his surrounding, and then asks, "There are no dressing rooms around here?"

"We are two males; there is absolutely no harm in undressing ourselves in front of each other." The knight counseled the young boy, turns to his back and gently tugs him to dress up. "Do not worry; I have to dress myself, too, silly… You want to learn how to fight with a sword, correct?" True to the knight's promise, he pulls out an attire cling in all black for himself.

Lovino eyeballed the knight's person self-consciously, decided to give in some considerations, and begins undressing out of his clothes. His back was turned against the tall man the entire time, of course. Lovino notices that the gears each have a number, listed alphabetically, it is good, he guessed, since he had no clue what to put on first. He picks up a tight white undershirt shirts and pants, which are labeled as number one, and proceeds to put them on himself. Then, the plastron, which is labeled as number two, comes over the tight white suite on him. Number three is a thick form fitting jacket, which, Lovino guessed, goes between his legs… This is quite confusing, and, he could not reach to secure the knot at the back, _damn it_. Number four, are the gloves for his hands. Then, the breeches, the long, thigh high socks, then the shoes, the mask, lastly, the lamé. And… done! Finally... Except, for the damn knot that keep on loosened itself on his back… Argh! Lovino could hear a soft chuckle on his back, the frown on his face worsened.

"Here, Lovino, let me help you." The knight offered helps to the boy, and tie a just-right bow knot.

"You were watching me the entire time, weren't you?" Lovino questioned, he slant his head over to his back, and scowled at the taller man.

"Why, you are just too cute to ignore, though." The knight retorted.

Lovino murmur softly under his breath, _"… Damn you…"_

He laughs, handed the young boy a wooden sword, and then, tells him, "Lovino, today, I, Antonio Fernandez Carriedo, shall teach you the arts of La Verdadera Destreza, to put it simpler term, it is a style of fencing... Follow me."

Lovino trailed behind the knight, his eyes on the useless blade in his hand. "Why did you give me this? I wanted a real one."

The knight stops upon reaching the ring of black circles in the middle of the room. He turns over to make eye contact with the boy. "Swords are very dangerous, Lovino. They are meant for killings and bloodshed… I only wanted you to be safe; of course, I will give you a real one once you are ready for the next step."

"Alright… I guess…" Lovino pouted. He hated being treated like a child, but, he really has no choice in the saying. _Signed._ Here goes nothing. He steps forth, into the black ring.

"Well, then, let us begin, sweetheart… Now, imagine these circles here as your eyes…" The knight pointed on the wooden floor. "Theoretically, they will help you to determine the best way to position your body and field of offensive and defense between you and your opponent." He put on his own mask and bows politely at the young Italian in front of him. "Enough talk for now, let us begin training, I shall lead you, do not worry, dear Lovino." The knight then raises his own wooden sword and pointed at Lovino.

"Sure… thanks." Lovino complied, ascend his own sword with a loose grip and mimic the knight's action with uncertain experiment.

The knight smile and nods in approval, he take a glance into the boy's eyes and remarks, "Remember this, Lovino, when facing your opponent, your right foot must always tilted at an angle away from your left foot, just like dancing, it is the most effective way to attack." He treads over to Lovino's behind and helps the boy adjusting his wobbly stance. The knight releases a lighthearted laugh when the Italian stumbles a bit, almost fell from where he stood so awkwardly, but defiantly pretense that he knows what he is doing. _Clumsy boy._ "Relax. Do not be too tense, Lovino, your opponent could have easily taken you down by now." Commented the knight, with a small teasing sway added to his tone. "Like here." He pointed to Lovino's open left side, and many other defenseless places. "And here, and here, and here."

Lovino grumps. Whispering something about, _'Dumb knight, I am trying really hard here.'_ After a while of being corrected and moving around, Lovino got his stand perfected.

The knight releases a sound of approval at his quick-learner pupil. _So cute._ "Good. Moving on, to your offense and defense, Lovino, you must, at all cost, steer clear of running straight to your opponent, only, to just mindlessly attack him. Even the sharpest blade cannot draw blood, the best weapon, is to stand back, analyzes your opponent's movement carefully, finding his strength and weakness, and, then counter and overpowered his predictable assault. Now, attack me."

Lovino raises his eyebrows at the man's request, but obeyed, and charge forth, only to have his attack blocked and pushes away. His butt come in contact with the wooden floor under, his sword knock down beside his right hand. "Did you see what I meant, Lovino? You cannot control your body at your present state, but, you will learn about your strong points and flaws in no time if you practice. Stand up, sweetheart, come on." The knight offers a helping hand, which Lovino ignored, too embarrass at the moment to rely on the man's assistance. Upon seeing Lovino's disobedience, the knight just smiles_. Really cute._

"… To obtain a full extension of the sword to your opponent without you actually approaches them; you must upkeep your sword in a single straight line from this part here, the shoulder. Stand tall, do not show signs of uncertainty, and maintain a good composure, Lovino, it will be a great help to your advantage." The knight pointed his sword at Lovino's shoulder and moves over to correct the boy once more. "Good boy, now then, stretch your body, here, to upturns your chance of offense, and reduce the blind spot." He turns Lovino's body so that it is complete spreads out, facing his imaginary opponent, rather than to cowered in fear. "Unh! You are doing such a great job, Lovino, good, good, very good." He commented, winking at the boy in his arm.

"Alright, let us move to the next phase, the Medio de Proporcion, which means, that once taking on the first attack, you must keep your body adjacent to your opponent, by doing so, you must keep it at an angle where you can freely dodge his incoming assault. Up next, you will use Atajo, which is a bind, a shield, your defense, to drive away the opponent's strike, only if, he to raises his blade against you face to face. On the other hand, if he decided to strike downward, in which we call, Movimiento Natural, that is when, you, the one in defense, to move your sword here, toward your hips." The knight demonstrates by gently sweeping his own sword against Lovino's legs. In defense, remembering the knight's advice, Lovino drove his own sword down to match against the arriving blade on his legs. "Yes, just like that, you are a natural at this, Lovino."

Lovino smile arrogantly and cockily replies, "Of course." His ego now boost in full mode thanks to the knight's praises.

"Now, remember this Lovino, you must make good use of the Tajo and Estocada, which is a straight cut and push against your opponent, a swordsman's biggest advantage and the most important aspect of fencing. If you use these techniques properly, you can quickly inflict a great damage to your opponent and drove away his sword, which is a swordsman's worst fear, to have his hands empty and bare to the world." The knight then displays to Lovino several techniques that will damage the opponent's will to fight. Such as the blow on the wrist, the open side under the stomach, both shoulders, the front abdominal, and so forth, of which, surprisingly enough, Lovino could understands everything and absorbs the information with greedy eyes.

"Once the fight clearly show the one at victory, you must ended the duel with the Movimiento de Conclusion, which is, to remove the physical weapon, if he still has it in hand, away from your opponent's, the end point. Like this, watch." The knight twirl his body close to Lovino's, make a circle around the boy, and slips over to knock the sword away from his open right hand. "Did you see it, Lovino?"

"Yes." The boy replied, making a somewhat jumbled face, he could feel the knight's swift movement, it is as if he had seen a ghost spirited him away. The knight was fast, but Lovino could recall his body sliding against him, like, being kissed by the wind.

"The second lesson is now complete, my dear pupil, now, let us act out what you have learned so far." The knight declared, raising his sword against Lovino.

Lovino eyes perked up, and states, "Finally." He holds his wooden sword up to counterpart against the knight's standing blade. He charges forth to have his first strike on the taller man, only, to come in contact with the man's defensive blade. Lovino's eyebrows buried together. _Damn it._ This is much harder than he anticipated. He moves to the left to attack, but, was blocked once again. The boy could feel a light caress against his cheek and looked into the knight's emerald eyes in blushing anger. He just kissed him! Lovino removes his sword and jump several steps back, giving himself and the knight some distant to prepare for another assault. He quickly runs to his left side, and then ducks to his right to confuse the knight, and then, aimed his sword on his open legs. The knight, in response, blocked Lovino's swing against his legs, and kisses his forehead. After a while, Lovino found himself cornered against the wall with the knight's sword clashes against his own blade.

As his sides are closing in and there were no available spot for him to attack, Lovino thoughtlessly swipes his wooden blade, hoping to scare the knight off, and then threatens him, "Mnh…! Take this!"His eyes, closes, everything was darkness before him. The knight playfully yelped out it in pain as if the Italian has imposed harm on him, he then backs away. Lovino opened his eyes, thinking that he, himself, had injured the man. The knight was on the ground clutching to his stomach, in agony.

Lovino dashes over to the man quickly, his legs kneels on the ground, he places his sword down, then, both of his hands are on the knight's shoulders to ease his discomfort. The knight looked up and smirked, his wooden blade is then gently presses against Lovino's throat. "Lovino, you must never let your guard down, regardless of the situation, if this was real, you could have die, silly."

Lovino eyes were widened in surprise, but returns back to its normal size once he reaches retaliation, he states, "I know…" He makes eyes contact with the knight, and tells him, "But, you will always be there when it happens, no matter what."

The knight's breathe was taken away for a brief moment, entranced by Lovino's words. He then, lowered his sword down, of which, in returns, Lovino grinned and slips his own wooden blade on top the knight's Adam apple. "Do not trust your opponent, knight."

The knight laughs, hysterically, and then proclaims, "You are absolutely right, Lovino." His body presses forward, into Lovino's wooden sword, just so he could kiss his cute little forehead.

"Alright, the lesson here is done, sweetheart. I'm soaked of sweat from our practice session, and I am positive that you are too." The knight's laugh died down, but smiling is still on his face. He stood up and offers Lovino a hand, which, to his own disbelief, the boy takes. As Lovino walks out of the room, his body got chills from a bit of fright. He turns over to have a look at the huge glass window behind his back. His amber orbs come in contact with a crow's indigo pair of eyes, its feathers plastered in hues of dark blues… No… it was not the crow. Somebody was watching them practice fencing from afar; someone was observing him, the whole time that he and the knight fights… But… nobody was there, was his imagination playing with him...? Certainly not, somebody was there, he swore…

"What is wrong, Lovino?" The knight comes over to check on the daydreaming boy. "Are you alright? I apologize if I pushed you too hard."

"Oh, nothing, I was just recalling your lesson, that is all. The exercises were very helpful." Lovino bite his tongue and recite a white lie. The knight smiles, pats the boy's head. He got a on hold Lovino's left hand and guides him toward the closet in the corner. They both undresses themselves out of their fencing uniform, though, Lovino is having more trouble than the first time he had put the uniform on. So, in the end, he had to reply on the knight's assistance to be ridden of the white, sweat drenched attire, once more.

When they are done and are about to leave the room, about half way through the wooden floor, in front is the exit, Lovino looks on his back, pondering more and more about his daytime delusion. "… Let's have a bath together." The knight suggests, his next destination is the… bath room. Sounds good.

"… Alright…" Lovino answered without thinking. _Hold on…_ He paused, and then looks at the knight's leering face. "… Wait. What?" The knight laughs; quickly grabs onto Lovino and pushes his person against himself, carrying the boy bridal style and dashes toward the bath room… In case if he changes his mind again.

Out from the fencing room, through the Amber Lilies garden, passes a walkway filled with romping figurines of angels, to the left, is the bath room. Lovino parched his lips open, in amazement, this "bath room" looks more like a house, a temple, or something grand and magnificent, fit for a noble man… like the knight. Before him, is a massive wonderland, in the middle of the room, is a giant bath pond, of sort, but, to him, it looks more like the vast ocean, filled with Amber Lilies petals. There is water, coming off of a cliff in the distant, from here; it looks like an actual waterfall. There are looked doors on the many sides of the room, each with distinct designs on the frame. As Lovino absorbs in the scenery before him, he did not notice that a finger poke on his right cheek, in fact, the poking was there for some time now… and it is getting annoying. He turns to glare at the irritating knight besides him, his eyes, asks, _'What?'_

"You look funny, Lovino. This bath room is very beautiful, right? It is design based off of Nodens' shrine." _Another strange reference._ The knight takes off his clothes and put them inside the basket near the bath pond. Lovino's eyes widened as the knight's skin was fully expose, as bare as a newborn… this man have no shame in exposing himself… naked like that… Urgh. His cheeks burns a disconcert blush. Lovino could hear the knight hummed in delight as he drove down to the water, without any sort of clothes what so ever on his person.

The knight rises from the water, turns over and looks at the boy in the distant; he swims back, toward a boulder near the edge of the pond. "Lovino, come here." The knight calls out, waving for the boy to come to him. Lovino complied, and walk over to the nude man inside the bath pond. Upon reaching the edge of the pond, which is wedged in crystal rocks, he stands there quietly, looking down on his reflection in the water surface. The knight swims over to where Lovino stood, flips his back over and requests, "Lovino, wash my back for me, please?" The Italian boy signed… _well, it's just his back, right?_ "Oh, there is a container near the clothes basket, please wash my back with it. I like the scent." Next to the basket, which is now full with the knight's clothes, is a jar, Lovino got a hold on it and opens the lid, and inside, is an orangey nectar, or something like that, of what smells like Amber Lilies. Lovino scope out a small hand full of the slushy sap, and begins rinsing the knight's back in it.

"Hnn… it smells so nice. Like you, Lovino." The knight commented, turns his face over and smiles at the boy.

"… Hey… can I ask you something?" Lovino softly inquired, he could clearly see his own image in the knight's intense emerald eyes.

"Sure. What is it?" The knight countered.

"Those doors. Where do they lead to?" He queried, looking at the secretive doors before him and the knight.

"On the left there, is the door of '_Sanctuary of Sleep and Rest'_ for those who are troubled with protections and disillusionments, it is a place where they can put their guards down and store their worries there for the time being. The glass door to your right, over there, is, the '_Door of Dream and Vision_', if it is all that you wish is be there to hope and dream, the gods and his followers shall grants you permission to come in. The door to the distant, all the way over there, is the _'Shrine of Initiation and Learning'_, it is for each individual to come in to learn, when they reach a point where they are ready to accept what is beyond reason and reality, of death and life… Like I said before, this is the shrine of Nodens, anything is possible, and any doors opened will lead to self-salvation, my dear Lovino." He answered, his voice, like an ocean's lullaby, so smooth out and peaceful.

After sometimes of enjoying the presence of Lovino's hands on him, an idea flourish inside the knight's head, he speaks, "Lovino, it is been quite sometimes now that we have not share anything of ourselves with each other. Let's play a game… I will ask you a question about your life and then you answer, in return, you can ask me about my life, and I will response, also. You can start first."

Lovino taken some time to think about the knight's offer, decided to play along since he is quite bored, he opens his lips and inquires, "… How come you never told me to do anything around this home?"

"Why? You need not to worry about such things since you are my lover." The knight answered the obvious, ignorance to Lovino's horrified and discomfited face. The Italian could not believe what he had just heard from the man… How dare him, declaring that he is his… l… lo… lover! Like that…! Lovino's face grimaced; he wanted to hit the knight really bad.

The knight could feel the heat fume coming off of Lovino's body, he waited for a moment, and thinks it is best to distract the boy with an intrusive question. "My turn… Tell me about your life in the palace."

The knight stiffed a laugh at Lovino's anger; being promptly thinning so easily, his eyebrows and young face perked up. "… The palace? I've never been in there. Being a servant under the Infanta... the work is very hard and being on your best behavior is a must, I can tell you that much."

The knight pushes on. "Then, how come you always look so grumpy when you are with me?"

Lovino's grouchiness returns. "I thought it was my turn to ask the question… and as for your question, my answer is: masters don't molest their servants." And then added a small cuss. "_Bastardo_."

The knight releases a chuckle; he could no longer control himself, turns body fully over and bit back at the Italian. "Did you not know of this, Lovino? The more you shout, scream, and use profane words at me; the cuter you look to me."

"You… what? Don't tell me you… enjoyed it?" Lovino looked horrified at the knight. _A masochist? Oh, Great._

"So what if I did? If it is from you, then, I shall adore and cherish anything." He responded with honesty, looking into Lovino's eyes.

Lovino's face softened, with his hair wet and straight like this, the knight reminds him too much of his young brother, Feliciano. He enquires, continue on with their game. "… Why do you always so cheerful and carefree, knight?"

The knight cocks his head to the side, smiling at Lovino's questioning face. "To be unknowing; unwitting; unaware is, considered to be true happiness, Lovino. Sometimes, I like to ask ignorant questions, even if I already knew the answer beforehand, because I just love the company of others. Why do you not do the same, too?"

"… I guess, I wanted to do the same thing sometimes, too, but I like living a life in truths." Lovino reacted, _what an odd question._

The knight looks at Lovino for a second, in silent, then, out of nowhere, with no reason, no motive, no purpose, he pulls the boy into the pool with him. Lovino gasped in surprise as the water splashed against in face, an interruption to his tranquil state. His amber eyes shined on fire, he stared into the knight's emerald orbs, in question, demanding why he pulled him into the pond without at least asking him first. He was scared shitless. Damned Spaniard. The knight laughs at Lovino's red face and states, "I like it when you are near, Lovino. You are so much fun to be with." He kisses Lovino's nose and then back away, only to sloshes some water onto the boy's face, playfully and still laughing in that untroubled laugh of his.

After hearing his endless childish chuckle, Lovino's face returns back to its usual irritable state. His heart beat jumped a bit…Well, the water feels nice. "You… Do you want to… come with me to visit Grandpa Roma and Feliciano? I want to go see them…" Lovino darts his eyes to the side, all of the sudden, discomfiture builds up on his face, which the skin on his cheeks are blushing red like a tomato.

The knight paused for a second, unsure if his ears are misleading him on, his face beamed brightly like the burning sun, and responses with a, "Why, I would be honored, dear Lovino."

When they are done with their bath, the knight and the boy went back to the master bedroom to dress their self for a visit trip to Lovino's home. Once they are done, they then headed out to the door, through a gallery if paintings, down the long, red, ruby stairway, from behind the main entrance, is the knight's personal butler, Heracles, ready on his carriage for his master and Lovino. The knight helps Lovino situated on a seat next to him in the cart. And then, the carriage takes off after the butler whistle for the stallion to move forth. Lovino's face was as shown to be irritated as ever, but, the knight could tell that he is quite excited and blissful to be able to see his family once again. Lovino looks out to the window, after the familiar houses outside are gone, replacing with a green background, an unexpected scare come to him, that he had tried to forgets about a long time ago… the path… with the green eyed man…

"Do not worry, sweetheart, we are taking a different route from now on." The knight proposed; his right hand on Lovino's shoulder to quiet down his telling heart.

Lovino turns to look at the knight and utters, "Uhh... al – alright… thanks." His thrashing heart actually calms its mad beats by the knight's reassuring touch on his shoulder.

After a while of traveling through a strange road, over a crowd of unfamiliar looking neighboring homes, passing by many new faces of villagers, up ahead is the home of Lovino's grandfather and young brother. Grandpa Roma and Feliciano, once again, are tending the Amber Lilies garden. The carriage stops next to the front gate of the home. When both Lovino and the knight exit the cart, the knight turns to his butler and directs, "Thank you, Heracles, you may go back to the mansion. Please come by here to pick us up in the morning."

"I will. Enjoy your stay." Promised the butler, handed the knight a luggage, and then, he guides the carriage north, back to his master's mansion.

"Ah! Mister Antonio!" Feliciano chirped, running toward the front gate to open it for the knight and his elder brother, forgetting about the Amber Lilies he had in his hands.

The grandfather also takes notice of the tall man after Feliciano's calling, and joins in with his young grandson's race toward the knight, almost shouting, "Antonio! You came to visit us!"

Once the gate comes free, both Grandpa Roma and Feliciano rushes toward Antonio and attached themselves on each side of the knight's, half dragging, and half commending, for him to come inside their new home with them. Lovino stroll behind the happy trio. Quietly murmurs, _'I am home.'_ Staring a hole into his forgetful grandfather's and mindless younger brother's behind; of which they did not even notice a difference as they are too busy greeting an important guest to their home. Once inside the house, the three begins chatting away, about pretty arts, beautiful girls, the wide world, their exciting life, everything sounds so important.

"Mister Antonio, did you bring me a present?" Feliciano probes, looking at the luggage in the knight's right arm.

"Why yes, dear Feliciano." Said the knight, smiling so, and handed Feliciano a kit of paint case filled with rich colors inside. Judging by the brilliant colors on the pallet, it is probably very expensive, but Feliciano pay no attention, in fact, the kid looks like he had no idea of his world, as usual, and takes it, smiling gratefully. The knight turns to Grandpa Roma, during one of their past conversation, he had mention how he loves Leonardo da Vinci, so Antonio handed him a rare painting done by the artist himself. Of which, the grandfather was ecstatic, overjoyed, and delighted as he takes the painting off of the knight's hands.

"… Oh, what an interesting painting, please tells me about its history, I am deeply intrigued." The knight commented, upon seeing a naked baby painting of Lovino hanging on the wall. The grandfather turns over, and says something about, _'Lovino used to be so adorable… and so is little Feliciano… I am an artist… and I used to paint these paintings of my grandsons so I could keep them inside of my heart forever…"_ And then, they begin a serious discussion of when Lovino and Feliciano were just tiny, little cuties. Lovino just frowned, the entire time, too humiliated to say anything rude to Grandpa Roma and the knight, and decided to walk out outside for some fresh air.

The sun finally dive over the horizon, it is now a late afternoon, almost to night time, there are some stars already appearing on the dark sky. Lovino looks out to the glass window and observe the fading scene before him, the Amber Lilies flowers outside is closing in their petals for the coming night. Antonio and Feliciano are now in the kitchen, cooking dinner together. Lovino and Grandpa Roma had just finished preparing the table for the four of them to dine on. The boy's stomach growled loudly._ I am so hungry._

"Dinner is ready!" Feliciano shouted from the kitchen, and then, he and the knight begins bringing out the dishes. The smell was awfully familiar. One by one, the dining table is then filled with charming Italian dishes. Steak Florentine, Cured Pork Jowl, Sausages, Panna Cotta, Canederli, Salads wrapped in Piadina, Fondue, Pasta… Mnn… So delicious. The four sat down and begins enjoying their dinner. Lovino got himself a bowl full of pasta. He picks up a fork and takes a mouth full of noodles drenched in red sauce into his hungry mouth. Oh, the cheese just melts in his tongue; the pasta noddle was soft and so chewy; the red tomato sauce had a certain ting of something really sweet… This taste… Lovino remembered it clearly… in the past, on the balcony… those mouthwatering Italian cuisines… were made by _this knight_…? He turns to look at the knight sitting across from him, next to Feliciano. _What the…?_ Antonio smiles and winked at him, silently mouths, _'what is it?'_

Feliciano take a note of this, smile innocently, stating, "Lovino, why don't you get married to Mister Antonio? He is a really nice person, his cooking skill is amazing, and I wanted him as my big brother."

Lovino almost choked on his mouthful of pasta. He turns to look at Feliciano in front of him, his eyes heated in irascibility, "Feliciano, we are eating here. And there is no such thing as marriage between men."_ You have an older brother, dumbass._

Feliciano put down his own fork, licking his own lips to be ridden off of the fondue dressing. "Anything is possible, Lovino. If you love each other, it should not matter if you are both men! Grandpa agrees too, right?" He darts his bright eyes to Grandpa Roma, who as busily chowing down his own plate of food next to Lovino.

The grandfather laughs, so loudly, and teases his elder grandson even further with a false assertion. "Yes! Rumor has it that even the great Leonardo da Vinci himself has his pupil as a lover." He pats Lovino on the shoulder, several times, still chuckling so noisily, "Feliciano, you should leave Lovino alone though, it is rude to tell your brother how to live his life." The knight watches the scene in amusement, the whole time, chuckling at the lively family in front of him.

The night finally came crashing down on the vanishing scenery outside of the glass window, the dining table is now clean of dishes and deserted once more, upstairs, the knight and Grandpa Roma each had their own separate room, Feliciano wanted Lovino to sleep with him, so, in the end, they share a room with each other. Currently, Lovino is in the knight's room, helping his "master" of whatever he needs for his night of sleep. He lights up some matches, to put flames into the lifeless candles on top of a stand next to the knight's bed.

A sudden interruption. "Where is my good night kiss, darling?" The knight entreated, looking at the Italian standing beside his bed.

"Shh! You idiot, what if they hear you? ... And I will not kiss you." Lovino shushed, jumping on the bed, and covers the knight's mouth with his own left hand.

Antonio laughs, removing his hand on his mouth, and ruffled Lovino's head, "I was only teasing, Lovino, you should take a break, sometimes." The Italian eyed the knight sheepishly, knowing full well that he is not a joker type. "Well then… farewell, darling, I will see you tomorrow." The knight parted.

Lovino's hands fidget nervously, and then crises cross his arms together, on top of his stomach. "Close your eyes." He asserted, still looking at the knight with prickly eyes.

"Sure." Answered the knight, then, shut his eyes tightly, listening to the Italian's command.

Lovino blushed and then turns his head to the side, toward the knight. A pair of soft lips taps on the man's cheek, faintly, like a caress from a feather. The boy blushed and then ran out of the room, slammed the door shut, without any word to the knight.

Lovino quickly dashes over to the open room on the left of the knight's chamber; the one that he had promised to share with Feliciano. When his person is inside, he shut the door close hastily, behind his back, trying to shrugs off the embarrassment written on his face. His heart still pounds madly in his chest because of the scene between him and the knight just a moment ago. _Stupid Spaniard…_

Feliciano glances at his brother in confusion; he was half way through undressing himself for the night. He changes his body fully to his older brother's direction, whose was leaning against the door, breathing heavily. _Silly Lovino… you should cool yourself down every now and then, you are a grown boy, after all._

"What is wrong, Lovino?" He inquired, tilting his head to the side.

"N-nothing! Mind your own business, Feliciano." The older brother replied, his face was so red, like a tomato!

"You look happy." The young brother observed, taking off his pants, smiling.

"No, I am not." Lovino denied.

"Alright, if that is what you truly felt, then, I guess I cannot change anything." Feliciano smoothed.

"… Why don't you put on some clothes for once?" Lovino changed the subject, today, he felt especially awkward and vulnerable around Feliciano. _Damn it… he read him like an open book, sometimes._

"But, I like sleeping naked!" The young brother pouted. "Lovino, you should join me today!" Then, he rushes toward Lovino with a laughing face, trying to take off his older brother's clothes.

"W-what? Hell no!" Lovino screeched, running away from his stupid young brother. After sometimes of him wrestling and fighting off his young brother's advantages, Feliciano finally quiet down, and drops down to the bed, sleeping peacefully, too tired for the day.

The older brother's face softened. _What a troublesome brother._ He then secured the blanket over his snoozing young brother's body. Feliciano's snores are so loud.

Lovino could feel somebody was looking at him… He freezes his body still, quietly turns his amber eyes toward the glass window, the silk blinds are blocking his view… but… he could sense eyes. Eyes on him. Only him… Lovino blows out the dwindling candles on top of the silver stand sitting on a drawer to his left. Then, he carefully lifts up the stand up and brings it along with him toward the window. It was unclear and faint, but the boy could see an outline of a figure standing behind the glass window. He swings the window wide open and smashed the silver stand into the figure's head.

"Ouch."

… _Ouch?_ Shit, it is the dumb knight.

"What the hell are you doing here, knight?" Lovino hissed, the burning fire in his eyes excavated, he turns back to look at Feliciano. He is still sleeping soundly, regardless of the commotions his elder brother makes during this time of night. The knight rubs his injured head; he could feel a bump begins taking shape.

"Nothing. I came here to say good night to you, that is all, sweetheart." Said the knight, his lips then forms a clueless smile at the young Italian before him.

"What? Just for a _'good night'_?" Lovino asked, his face drowns in misunderstanding. _Weird knight._

"You, and I, and everybody else, never know of the day of tomorrow. This may be our last moment together. A flower could only blooms for such a short period of time, Lovino." Stated the knight; looking into Lovino's eyes for a glimpse of the moon's reflection.

"Good night, pajarito." Parted the knight, smiling still at Lovino.

Lovino signed. But gave the man a reply, nevertheless. "Alright… good night…" And then, the knight was gone, going back to his room, with a pleased and contended face. Today was a good day for the knight.

Out in the distant, on a dry, shrunken branch of a tree, stood a crow, whose eyes were so dark, just like black liquid ink. A blue feather of his fell out of his body as he took off his wings toward the bright silver moon on the sky.

* * *

Source:

Aztec mythology - Metztli

_La Belle au bois dormant by _Charles Perrault

Amanti (violin) - Andrea Amati

Arpicembalo (piano) - Bartolomeo Cristofori

Temple of Nodens Incubation - Romano-British god.


	9. The Overseer and His Blue Crow

_**Arthur's Note**__: _Okay, as promised, here is the completed chapter! Enjoy!

* * *

**Chapter 9**: The Overseer and His Blue Crow

* * *

There was a man, dressed in black and white attires, standing inside a room with no people, in his right hand, is a book. Around him, are hordes and hordes of tiny, little, blue crows. There were descents of dark feathers dancing freely around his person, like droplets of a rainfall from the sky. The man opens the book in his right hand and orates,_ "Antonio Fernandez Carriedo. A son of a wealthy merchant. His mother died of an unknown illness when he turned twenty two years of age. His father passed away shortly after that due to old age, leaving his then, twenty three years old son his wealth and fortune. The son was devastated by the events of his mother's and father's death and decided to travel to the Kingdom of Seville and started a new life there. After some time passed, a band of pirates invaded and attack Seville, a man by the name of Antonio Fernandez Carriedo bravely shown himself, cloaked in a red cape and drove away these greedy barbarians. The courageous man was then chosen as a knight by the common people to their Infanta, begging for the man to always protect their lives, their children, and their homeland. The man accepts the proposal immediately, and swore to allegiance to always obey the code of conducts knights must abide by. He quickly gains popularity amongst the common people and becomes the Infanta's favorite in a short period of time; as he have shown himself to be a compassionate, resilient, and valiant knight.. ."_

.

_A blue crow; a depiction of man's own impurity._

During ancient time, in a holy land in mystic India, the Ruler of the Kingdom Kasi,

_Sage Kashyap and his adored wife, Tamra, together, had many __daughters and their names are Syeni, Bhasi, Grdhrka, Suki, Griva, and last but not least, the special and beautiful Kalavati. She was a unique girl, with an air of a goddess; in contrary to popular belief, she was given the Saiva Pancaksara Mantra when she was just a little girl. When adulthood came to Kalavati, the King of Mathura, Dasarha, offers his interest in her hands for marriage. But, unfortunately, the King, failed to mention the fact he, himself, was a man who committed many sins, rumours had it that he had broken the Seven Deadly Sins of the whole world, even. During their wedding night, in the time of couples united as one, he lays his hands, dirtied in contamination of sins, on the clueless and pure Kalavati, a divine being; he then was burnt by agonizing heat and excruciating scorn from the gods above. Kalavati soon realize that her beloved husband, Dasarha, is a sinner, and instead of shunning him away, she shown him nothing but kindness and understanding as a wife herself. As a result of her open heart, she soon took her husband to the holy Sage, Garga, who surprisingly enough, cleansed the sin-filled King with his purified prayers, and then told Dasarha to go stand inside a clear water bed. Upon touching the sacred water, all of the King's dark sins burst out of his heart in the many black and blue silhouettes of flying crows. Half of them flap their wings and soared straight into the open sky. Some of the crows got their arms burnt by the scorching sun above and fell into the water bed. Upon witnessing this sight, the holy Sage, Garga, indicated that the flying crows and the decreased crows were the capacity of wickedness and immoralities gathered in the sequence of the immeasurable confinements over which the King, Dasarha, had conceded to the people and the world around him. _

The sky today was bluer than any other days. The intense light from the yellow sun was filled with passion; as he was brave enough to sings love songs to the untouchable ocean under. The grey dolphins are, as always, happily, and carelessly chatting among themselves to see who would be lucky enough to charmed over a mate to dance with them. The white seagulls above dove into the ocean floor, only to flaps their wings merrily as they have caught a prey for their starving families. The perfect image was then slowly tainted by a pretty soundless omnibus black pigment as a ship passes by the adoring yellow sun, the cheerful grey dolphins, and the jolly white seagulls. Despite the colorful setting, the ship was concealed by the night radiate from within. Spreads throughout the whole top deck are rainbows and rainbows of flower beds and bouquets. It was a merchant ship.

A boy, an overseer, was seeing standing inside the wooden crow's nest; in his hands is a telescope, his eyes are glue into the clear lenses, he was looking at something new, something rousing, something exciting. He was often called a sly fox, a teller parrot, an eavesdropper weasel, but, in actuality, he had always thought of himself as an observant crow. His right hand turns the telescope's handle over to broaden in the scene before him, as he was too bored by the same blue sea in front. Under the yardarm, over the white sail blinds, in the inside of the clear telescope's lenses, stood two boys. In the forecastle, just a few feet behind the bowsprit, standing upright is a boy, with blonde silver hair and red eyes. Next to him, is another boy, younger than him, probably. The younger boy was most likely, Indian, or Egyptian, or a mixture of something exotic, who knows? Dull bronzed skin, gloomy untidy hair, lithe build body, a normal, unremarkable face. The only things that stood apart from those boring qualities are his eyes; they are like delicate emerald stones.

These two normal, typical, average boys just got their job on the spot thanks to a shortage of servants on the ship. Though in actuality, the ship's leader, Captain Folkert, always have had a soft spot for young boys… being hired on to this ship was very easy for pretty boys like them. There was a shriek next to the sightseer's right ear. The crow standing on his right shoulder, his best friend, is name Tiny Tony, and today, he was a bit more rowdy than usual. The blue crow, Tiny Tony, like his young sightseer master, loves to stand still and observe, it is quite interesting to watch the people below. Sometimes there will be squabbles; a bloody fight broke free; fine golden treasures discoveries, whatever or whenever those things occurs, they are always fascinating and exciting. Like today, for instant, Captain Folkert decided to appointed and train a pupil of his own; and it just happen to be that new cabin boy with emerald stones for eyes. Captain Folkert would always talk and praise this _pupil_ of his. "He is great isn't he?", "I love those intense green eyes of his. They are so beautiful and strong.", "He is very smart and talented. A quick learner, too, I might add." Were the words that will always escape those capable lips of the proud captain.

On dim nights, the sightseer and his dear friend, Tiny Tony, would, together spotted the young pupil wanders to Captain Folkert's chamber, as usual, his shadow masked by the darkness. Sometime passed, shameless moans and submissive groans would leak out the captain's chambers, through cracked walls, and thin glass windows, and then the mates and servants would passes by with whinnying voices and libidinous glazes, knowing full well how low the cabin boy would stood to please his master. The dark night would then, be just another night, as the burning sun passes through the blackness with its righteous yellow light once more.

Morning today was blown away by the winds, as sunset have already wanders over the skyline above the mountains. June, 1st, 1753, there was this fine Italian theater, the Teatro della Pergola, in Florence, Italy; the captain had his eyes on it for some time, just looking, watching, observing the handsome building and the people in it. For some reason, Captain Folkert, allows this _pupil_ of his to "act out" what he had previously learned from him. _This is interesting_. The cabin boy, known as _'Antonio'_ was to lead the assault on Teatro della Pergola, under the captain's supervision. How _interesting_, indeed.

The crimson curtains above unwrap themselves naked, from the inside, is an isolated dim stage, and then beams and illuminations, hundreds and hundreds of them, brings the darkness to life. A songstress ambled up to the front platform in her cherry red gown, and bundled up the ruffled corners of her skirt, making a fan shape of her dress to greet her audience. The mass of people from underneath the stage claps in admiration and flung lively hoots at the stunning woman before them. When the applause vanished, the songstress links her hands together, slowly closes her eyes, and takes in a calm breath. It was quiet, the air was calm, there was no wind; she was waiting for the right time to start her song. Then, her scarlet painted lips gradually separated, charmingly, the woman then create a soothing tune, _"… If you love me, if sighs… Sol for me, gentle shepherd, I dolor de 'your martyrs… I delight of your love, but if you think insole, I owe you Riamar… Pastorello, you are subject…Easily t'ingannar…"_

Her enthralled viewers close their opened eyes and hums along her melody, _"… Beautiful purple rose…"_

There was a sound of snapped fingers together. A sound so small that only people who did not sing along to the songstress' melody could hear.

_"Today Silvia choose… Under the guise of the plug…"_ A flash of red shields over the whole chamber. There was a terrified shriek of a young woman, as her head was amputated by a sharp blade. The other audience begins to absorb in what is happening, panic begins to risen, fear begins to dwell in their eyes. The lovers would say their last goodbye's together, the families would huddled up in a small circle for the final moment of warmth with each other, strangers would comfort one another as if they understand that this is the last time they will see the unknowns. The different shades of browns and auburns and beiges outside of the windows smudged the reds, crimsons, and scarlets the inside of the theater. The tables around the audience flips and swings over, and as a result, the plum wine glasses and white plates would race with one another towards the marble floor, having a ballet as they clattered and tousled idyllically against each other, creating jovial music of their own.

The songstress shred a solemn sapphire tear at the spectators before her, seeing as how they would gently vanishes before her, she did not know what to do but continued on with her song, a song of parting, _"Doman then despise…"_

The woman could not help her tears from dropping on top of the smooth floor under her, she was profoundly affected, her song begins to cry alongside with her, _"But the men on board," _A young boy with crimson red eyes hopped on top of his chair's bed and tossed her a ruby rose of his for her. There was another figure sitting beside the boy, a dark shadow with emerald eyes on her and his companion, _"… for me it does not follow…"_ The songstress graciously held up her right hand to catch the ruby rose from her admirer, but, then, a thorn on the green stalk scratched a pale finger of hers. A red blood droplet left her scarred flesh and into the ground it goes.

_"…not because I like the lily…"_ The seated men around the songstress' admirer and the emerald eyed boy; proceed to rise up from their chairs, and then begin to latch onto the pretty girls for their young, innocence virginity. The pretty girls would wail once their flower gets forcefully penetrated and soiled all over, as the most valuable thing inside them is shattered, their gift to their future husband is ruined. The men, too lost in their own thirst-filled bubble, did not care as they seek more and more of that delicious sap inside the pure flowers; some even thought to themselves the flowers loved their divine attention... But, in actuality, who will love these trolls and ogres who disguised themselves as men?

_"… The other flowers sprezzerò…."_ The charming tune concluded with the songstress setting herself on top of the dim stage's marble base, with her face plastered in blue teardrops and her throat exposed, scratch, and deep mahogany ink would spattered all over her crimson gown, a stunning red rose then sprouted from her scar. _The color of love and passion..._ When will she rouse from this odd little imagination of hers?

This is unreal, an illusion, it must be the work of magic from a wizard.

When the songstress awakes up from her dream, she was in a different place, far, far away from the theater she thought she was in, and singing in front of so many people, no less. The sky is blue, the sun is yellow, and the clouds were white. She opens her mouth to speak, to greet mornings to the heavens above, but could not utter a word as her vocal cord was greatly damage, beyond recovery; there were bandages around her neck. In her right hand, is a ruby rose, in her left hand is a note, it reads:

"_I love your performance, it was beautiful and lovely like you, but, I do not want you to sing songs of gratitude for me. _

_Sincerely,_

_An Admirer._"

Captain Folkert is not on the upper deck today, as he is in his chamber, locked himself and his pupil inside and had written down a list of the old slaves, thinking of possibilities on how to get rid of them with the new riches him and his dear Antonio had acquired. When the sun begins to plunge itself under the ocean's blue line, it is time for the chosen slaves to be thrown over the deck, there were some resistance amongst the chosen slave's family members, so they were killed off immediately, regardless of whether they were marked or not. Soon after that, the slaves are finally quiet down and proceed to soundlessly line themselves up behind the plank. One, after another, after another, after another. The slaves would voluntarily jump into the ocean like angle fishes, as their own tears in melancholies matches the blues under. Then, it come the last slave, a boy whose blonde locks is like the yellow sun. His age and hormones have betrayed him, as the boy no longer had that appearance of adolescence on him, but, a charisma and built of a young man have slowly begins to blossomed in his matured cobalt eyes. He was no longer of use; he was no longer sought after; he was no longer achingly desired. The boy with yellow for hair step forth, the first step, the second step, then the third, so forth, he almost reach the end of the plank. And then, something unexpected happens, there was a noise, of shifting, of moving, of instability.

The yellow haired boy turns his head over, the cabin boy, Antonio; his back was on him, facing Captain Folkert. "Antonio, what is wrong, dear?" Captain Folkert interrogated, his voice was gentle, confused, and then caution slowly builds up in his eyes. His pupil, Antonio; hands was caressing the scabbard beside his left hip, waiting, thinking, deciding his course of action in the following event. The captain's eyes hardened. His emerald stones for eyes shown savagery, of hunger and wanton for the captain's blood. _So_, the green chameleon decided to change his color once more, _eh?_ The captain draw his huge sword from the scabbard on his back before the cabin boy could.

"You have no idea how much this hurt me." The usual, calm and mild, Captain Folkert stated, looking into his pupil's deceitful emerald eyes. A more dreadful, vile, intolerable character comes alive in his aged eyes.

The cabin boy draws his own blade from the scabbard tied beside his left hip. "Oh dear, pardon me, sir, I only wanted to sharpen my skill, I did not meant to offense you on a personal level."

_Tch._ The captain snorted at the boy's assertion, he then mocks, "Always kind and considerate, aren't you? You little bastard… you are worse than an untamed bitch in heat."

"Ah, I am deeply insulted by your statement, Captain Folkert." The cabin boy responded, feigning hurt in his cold emerald eyes. He raises his own sword, the size of the silver blade was a bit big on him; he felt awfully brave and somewhat naughty today, on this sunny and bright day. The old captain charge forth, and slides his sharp blade across the cabin boy's stomach. The cabin boy swiftly dodges the assault on him and jumped on top of the plank, he turns over, smile and winked at the yellow haired boy behind him. Captain Folkert swings his enormous blade once more, producing some vibration on the wooden plank. The cabin boy, again, is gone with the wind, and then, he dashed through the main deck with the captain on his back. He circled himself over the mast, which is erect upright in the middle of the boat, as the captain begins his precise swings and slashes on his little body. Some of the cabin boy's clothes manage to splits and tears under the captain's experiment blows on him, as he is just a beginner at sword fighting after all. He pulls the strings holding the sails together, successfully ensnaring the old captain in the false white sheets and sheets of fabrics. The captain grew irritated, as his eyes were obstructed away from the running rat of a cabin boy. The cabin boy hangs himself over the ratlines, and notice, for the first time, there was a boy with blonde hair and a telescope masked over his seeing eyes in the crow's nest on his own person. He smile and comments at the boy looking down on him, "Are you cheering for me?"

There was not enough time waiting for the cerulean eyed boy's response as Captain Folkert shredded the white blinds into small pieces of cotton snowflakes. He then, jammed his huge sword on the cabin boy, creating a net of slides and slits. The cabin boy quickly escapes the coming impacts on him, but, his right shoulder somehow got tangled in the spider web of attacks by the old captain. There was blood on him; the wounds on his right shoulder were like him being bitten by hundreds and hundreds of insects. The cabin boy could feel these insects cocooning themselves into his flesh, waiting for the right time to spurt their wings to become butterflies. He then circled himself over the mast for a second time, and then, hops on top of the wooden rails held together by the poles, of which, are designs in Amber Lilies. Along the way toward the bowsprit, the old captain begins a series of attacks on the side, in return, the cabin boy would counter with equal agilities and movements. He learns a lot about the captain's strength and weaknesses behind the main chamber's closed door, during dark and cloudless nights, of his pleasurable points, of the spots that would drive him crazy, of the way to touch his sensitive skin. The old captain really loves to experiment strange fetishes and foreplay before his meal.

At this moment, the cabin boy is standing on the tip of the bowsprit; the old captain's multiplying his blows on his sword with his huge blade. He does not care about the method to take this boy down; he just wanted him gone, for good, forever. The cabin boy got a hold of one of the rope connecting against the tip of the bowsprit, and then, he begins to plunge himself out of the attacked spot the captain had him corner in. Captain Folkert changes in eyes downward, knowing that the cabin boy would escape using the rope, he raise his sword and cut off the knot that held onto the bowsprit. The captain smirked upon hearing a noise of surprise from the boy, as the rope is now disconnected, and, he could felt his body siding down the wooden board of the bow. Giving the boy's body to the ocean under sounds like a small punishment for a betrayer like him. _Stupid brat._

The captain turns his back on the bowsprit, only to hear the haunting words of the cabin boy, "Please turn yourself over, Captain Folkert, I do not want to look bad attacking you from behind."

"You little shit." Cussed the captain, as he hastily flung himself over and swipe his sword, thoughtlessly, in rage.

_Oh, this is a new move._

So it is true that his huge sword is a cursed blade. The captain twist his huge sword several times over and over, spiral it in his hand, he calms his furious eyes, sensing the heat coming off of the steel hold, remembering the feeling of his huge blade, vibrantly palpitating with life, and then, joins with him; becoming as one with himself. The man's eyes was clouded, as if he was listening to the blade; it was controlling, directing him to move a certain way, how his body should stance, how to make his strike glide, _fighting against the wind_. The captain begins to dance, his enormous form, was agile, prompt, and instantaneous, after then, his moving body links it way into his huge sword, he attacks, his glide, comes precisely against the gust of the entering cabin boy, into the eye of the wind. His incisions and gashes on the boy are deep and unfathomable, but, not enough to result in internal confliction with his vital organs. The captain enjoys playing with his opponent; torture is the best method to break them. This new Antonio is rousing, entertaining, and aggressive, and oh, _he would love to fracture his tiny white bones and fresh peeled_. The cabin boy's body, entirely, was severely scraped from head to toe, his shirts and pants was torn, ripped, but not that badly since he manage to move away from some of the attacks, crimson red splits of wavering skin's shell appears, an abundance of blood dripping off of his lithe figure. Well, this is_ really _something to behold. The cabin boy effectively hidden his own excitement, his own eagerness, delight, the old captain's movements were very fast, but he got it. Now, he just jumps here and there to buy some rising anticipation. His stop is at the mast, he wanted everybody to see this. The cabin boy took some sweet time and stands there, enjoying the blue sky above and calming ocean waves under. He turns himself over, and mirrored the captain's movement. In a flash, Captain Folkert's moving form, was an exact carbon copy of the cabin boy's injured body.

Wounded, and unable to fight, as some of his fingers and toes were cut off, the captain snapped his remaining fingers together, telling his royal mate to take down the cabin boy. Nobody step forward. They all were too hypnotized by the cabin boy's power; they all wanted him to become their new leader. There was a frustrated growl in the captain's throat.

He flips over and looked deeply into the emerald stones for eyes of the cabin boy. "… Who gave you food? Who gave you shelter? Who gave you riches and power?" He questioned.

"Why, it is you, of course, Captain Folkert. I am very grateful and indebted to all of the things you have given me, but, unfortunately, due to an accident at sea created by Mother Nature, your life ended in tragedy." The cabin boy answered. The captain opens his mouth to restore back, but his head was then, flung out of his body, his main limp, decapitated. The red bed of roses behind the captain's bleeding body would then cascade and conceals his spilling blood with its falling petals all over the wooden floor. The captain's head, would roll, and roll, and roll, until it hits against a barrel of wine, which then it stops rolling, finally. His eyes, they were opened wide and huge, his lips, parted, quivering out some incomprehensive blank words. The cabin boy stretches his body from a tiresome fight with the captain. He stroll over to the headless body of the captain, dragging it with him, and thrown it over board, despite the huge difference in their size compared to one another; the boy just make it seemed like he just pluck away a flower's crown off of its green stem. There was a track of crimson blood mixed with the red petals of the ruby roses lined from behind his walking footsteps. And then, the captain's body was gone, for good, as the sharks gathers around his delicious bloody body in the ocean blues.

The sightseer's breath was blustered away, his hands grip onto the telescope tightly, his eyes, were glue on the clear lenses. He has breathless, speechless, dumbstruck. His buddy, Tiny Tony, standing still on his right shoulder, is also flabbergasted by the entire act before him and his master. _This is very interesting, indeed._

And the sightseer's first thought was:

_I want him._

.

The morning light manage to sneak its way inside of the glass window. There are noises, so loud, so obstreperous, and so enthusiastic of something really exciting. Lovino grumped, turning his body over to the other side to block out the intrusive noises. He felt fingers poking into his face, he grumped again, slightly annoyed. The fingers would move with him, once again, attached itself onto his face. Lovino parts his eyes, slightly, clouded and confused, as he was still seduced by the soft mattress beneath his body.

"Lovino! Wake up! It is morning already, you lazy brother!" Lovino heard Feliciano's yelling in the dark background before his hazy eyes. He tries to hold his body upward, away from the soft mattress and warm blanket, and it is a success, _somehow_. He yawned and then grunted, his vision is not fully perceptible of the daylight before him, his eyes were squeaking small as he was adjusting to the bright scene before him… and… standing around his bed are Grandpa Roma, Feliciano, and the dumb knight. _What is going on…?_

Feliciano smiles at his older brother, "Hey! Grumpy faced Lovino, I asked Mister Antonio if he would like to go to the beach with us, and he agree...! So, get up and get ready, quick!"

Lovino turned to look at the impossibly bright face of the knight; his amber eyes were implying, _'Is this true?'_

"Lovino, dear, get up, please; today is a very pleasant day. Going to the beach, the warm reflect of the sun, listening to the waves singing, the feel of the soft sand as your feet touches the smooth surface; those things sounds wonderful, are they not? And do not worry; I have all the time in the world." The knight answered, smiling at the indecisive boy on the bed.

Lovino looked somewhat pale faced, his vision finally adjusted, but he manages to conceal his current stress-filled emotion perfectly. _Shit… _The nearest beach to Seville is the Costa de la Luz, which could only means: the girl with the golden hair. Just his luck, great. _Fuck_, what should he do? If he does go with them, then the painful memories would cloud his mind, but if he refused, then _they_ would know of his humiliating past with that girl. _Damn it._

"Antonio is right, Lovi, since you are here with us, why not?" Stresses the old grandfather to Lovino's right.

"Common, Lovi… Please?" Pleaded the younger brother; his eyes, like an innocence pup at his elder brother.

Lovino signed deeply. "… I will come along, _I guess_..." He murmured under his breath.

"Yes! We got him!" Grandpa Roma and Feliciano rejoiced together as victory is in their hands once more.

Lovino grumbled about something, and then, nonetheless, proceed to tidied up his person up for that early morning. In the meanwhile, Feliciano and Grandpa Roma begins loading their luggage and packing lunch for their upcoming trip together. The knight then helps them carried out their luggage to the porch. When the knight's butler, Heracles, arrived with his carriage at the front gate, Antonio asks him if he could drive them to Costa de la Luz, in which he complied without a hassle. After packing the luggage in the back storage of the carriage, the knight and his butler made sure that Grandpa Roma, Feliciano, and Lovino are secure and comfortable in their seats. Then, off they go, to the beach on this marvelous day.

"Thank you so much, Mister Antonio!" Alleged the younger excited brother sitting next to Lovino.

"You are welcome, Feliciano… I say, why do you love the beach so much?" The knight inquired; who was sitting beside Grandpa Roma.

"Because all of my trouble will be forgotten about if I simply have a look at the ocean; just like when I stare at pretty girls, I feel happy. Do you do that sometimes too, Mister Antonio?" Feliciano queried, eyeing at the knight with his wide eyes.

"Yes, I do that sometimes too, especially the sky above; it is something that I will never get tired of looking." The knight answered with honesty, smiling so at the young boy's earnest words. He turns to the grandfather beside him, whose was awfully quiet as a look of wonderments spreads over his wrinkled face. "What is on your mind, Sir Roma?"

The grandfather turns to make eye contact with the knight. "… Antonio, I heard about the war in Porto, a friend of mine told me that there were some losses and casualties there, you must be devastated… are you alright, dear? I am sorry that I'm unable to pay a visit to you because I was injured at the time."

"Sir Roma, you do not need to worry of such a trivial thing, as it is my duty to protect yours, Feliciano's, Lovino's, and other civilian's lives." The knight responded, with a hand on the grandfather's shoulder for assurance.

"Ah… It is such a blessing that this town has someone like you to be on the lookout for its people." Granpa Roma smiled at the knight's kindheartedness. "You know, I once was a knight myself back in Sicily."

The knight raises his eyebrows slightly. "… Really? I did not know that, Sir Roma, you must be a very well respected knight. Tell me more of your past life, I am sure it is enthralling and fascinating, considering how you are such a wise and able man."

Grandpa Roma could only chuckles, really loud, enough to cause a movement from the butler leading the carriage outside, "Oh, you sure know how to make a person blushed with your words. You must be quite popular with the ladies, Antonio." He winked and pats the knight's back hard, several times, as his ego was stroked. "Tell me, do you have a particular somebody in mind?" Lovino twitched at his grandfather's statement and glared at the knight with a dagger in his amber eyes. _Don't you dared say anything funny, knight._

The knight laugh softly, "I apologized; I was only stating the fact, Sir Roma." His emerald eyes softened at his next few words. "As for that 'somebody', I am afraid it is only one-sided on my end. Love is as blinded as it is painful, Sir Roma."

"I am sure that your unrequired love will be returned someday. Keep trying, dear. I mean, it literately, taking me five years, _five whole years_, to win over the women of my dream. She is a feisty, little thing, just like Lovi here... You see, she always shunned away my words of fondness and songs of admiration for her, but, her eyes, it was telling me to never give up my love. After many fail attempts, she finally gave her hands to me in marriage, and together, we had a beautiful little girl along the way…" Grandpa Roma had to stop because there was a tiny little sparkled of grievance and despair in his faraway eyes. Lovino's and Feliciano's face got solemn alongside with their grandfather's broken story. The air was thick and timid, a pregnant silent consumed the atmosphere.

The knight, sensing the change in the grandfather's tone and the two despondent faces of the brothers, decided to change the topic. "Feliciano, do you like the art pallet I gave you yesterday?"

"… Yes! I do! I do! Thank you, Mister Antonio!" The younger brother returned with a light face. "As a matter of fact, Grandpa Roma is going to teach me how to paint today, right, grand - grand? "Feliciano darts his head to look at the grandfather sitting next to the knight.

Grandpa Roma laughs nonchalantly and chants, "Yes, yes, I promise, Feli!"

The knight smiled and continues on, "Did you draw when you were a little boy, Feliciano?"

"Yes, sir! Lovino does, too, also; he is really bad at drawing even though he started first… but you can see the passion in his arts!" A lighthearted air concealed over the talkative trio, and then, they begin chatter about hollow and pointless things once more. Of their adventures of their everyday life, their days sound so pleasant and interesting. After a moment of chitchatting with Grandpa Roma and Feliciano about the arts, and paintings, and foods, and pretty girls, the knight glance at the soundless elder brother and remarks, "I bet Lovino dislike this little trip that we had, I mean, look at the cantankerous, unapproachable, grouchy little face he had on."

Lovino's body twitched, coming back to reality. "W-what? I am perfectly fine, thank you for your concern...!" There was a flush of pink embarrassment on his face._ I can't help it… my face always looks like this…_

"Lovi, relax. This is why we are going to the beach together because you look awfully tense whenever we see you." Feliciano stated, worried and concern in his young eyes. Lovino kept quiet for the rest of the time, brushing off concerns here and there with small, barely there remarks. It did not take long for the knight's carriage to reach Costa de la Luz. Heracles stops the carriage near a white house. Lovino's nervousness spiked, but he is really good at holding in his feelings, so far, nobody notice the conflicting emotions in his amber eyes. The knight's butler gets off the horse, walked back, and opened the door for his master and his companions. Feliciano was the first one to get off his seat and out the carriage door he goes, excitement resized in his bright face.

"You own a house here, Mister Antonio?" Feliciano inquired, his face gasped at the beautiful private home before him. It was huge; the house itself rests halfway on top of the blue beach and the yellow sand. Around the white walls are palm trees; water beads was dripping off of the green leaves. There is a white boat inside the water next to the far stretched wooden deck. The milky sun is just about to rise for morning in the distant horizon line. Feliciano smiled widely at the scenery. _Pretty!_

The knight is the next one coming out of the carriage. He turns to the young Italian brother and grinned. "Yes, dear Feliciano."

"That is so nice. I wish I was rich, too." The brother replied, still amazed. Grandpa Roma had just exists from the cart, he was about to steps back and unloads their luggage from the back storage, but the knight stops him. "You should rest, Sir Roma." He told the old grandfather.

"Thank you, Antonio!" Declared Grandpa Roma, chuckling at the kind Spanish man. "I am sorry that I'm not that much of use."

"Oh, no. You are technically my guest, good sir." The knight stated, laughing lightly. Feliciano runs over and drag Grandpa Roma with him to show him the small coconuts' bulbs growing on the palm trees to the left side of the house.

Lovino is the last one out, he pace over next to the knight and asks, "Hey, do you need help?"

"No thank you, Lovino." The knight smiled softly at the smaller Italian boy. Then, playfully whispers, _"But, I could use a kiss." _

"No way." Lovino answered flatly, and when he sees the knight's pretense sad face, he then goes toward Grandpa Roma's and Feliciano's direction.

While the knight unpacks the luggage from the storage behind the carriage, his butler helped guides the Italian trio inside the home. The interior is just as nice as it is on the outside. The whole building is made off of a special mahogany wood, unlike the bright, white colors outside. Inside, there are nice paintings lining against the walls, porcelain glasses on tables, and windows, lots of them, everywhere Lovino turns; there is one open to the wide sea. In the meanwhile of Lovino's exploration around the house, Grandpa Roma and Feliciano prepare some meat balls stuffed bread, cheese, and orange juice for breakfast.

"Antonio! Come join us for breakfast!" The younger Italian brother called out as soon as he had done putting the dishes on the table.

"Alright. Thank you, Feliciano." The knight responded, and then situated himself in a chair next to Lovino; whose was quiet as a cute, little mouse so far.

"You, too, Mister Butler... what is your name, dear?" The grandfather asked at the standing man next to the knight.

"Pardon me; I apologized for not introducing myself. My name is Heracles. Unfortunately, I am full, thank you for your offer. I will only be here for a short period of time, anyway; I need to take care of something back at Master Carriedo's mansion." The butler alleged, smiling slightly.

"You do whatever you need to do!" Grandpa Roma stated, taking a bite off of his delicious Italian bread.

The butler then turns to his master. "… Sir Carriedo, do you need me for anything else?"

"No. Thank you." The knight reacted, making eye contact with him for assertion.

"Then, I will be on my way, I shall return back here as soon as the sun sets." He indicated, bowing at everybody.

"Alright. See you then, dear Heracles." The knight agreed, waving at his departing butler.

"Good bye, Mister Nice Butler, Heracles!" Feliciano parted, the red sauce spilled all over his shirt because of his messy words.

"Take care and be careful, dear!" The grandfather joins in with his young grandson.

When Grandpa Roma and Feliciano are done eating and talking some more to the knight, it was already around noon, so they decided it is a good time for some relaxation on the beach. The knight helps the grandfather set up a spot for them, while Feliciano builds sandcastles and making snow angels rolling around the sand. Lovino wanted to help out too, but, his grandfather just told him to watch over his little brother. After everything is done, Feliciano wanted Grandpa Roma to teach him how to paint and differentiate variance techniques using the pallet the knight gave the young brother yesterday. Right off the spot, the grandfather was impressed as his young grandson is a quick learner and absorbs everything in like a sponge. Lovino sat on the rock, watching Grandpa Roma and Feliciano, a small smile grace his lips doing so. He hears footsteps approaching him from his right, so he turns to have a look, _oh_, it's the knight.

"Lovino, would you like to practice fencing some more with me?" The knight asked, holding out two long wooden stick he founded alongside the beach's sand.

"Umm… Yes." Lovino nodded, taking the wooden stick out of the knight's hand. The knight offers a hand for the boy, which he takes. Lovino is surprisingly calm today.

The knight smiles and part opens his lips. "… Yesterday, your offense was quite good, Lovino, but sadly, your defense was not, and all of your weak spots are wide open for an assault. Today, why don't we sharpen that weakness and turn it into your advantage?"

"How…?" Lovino quirked, making eye contact with the man, he always thought that the more attacks he inflicts on an opponent, the better his chances of winning.

The knight paused for a bit, quietly gathered his words together inside his head. "As I said, instead of hiding your weak points such as your wrists, stomach, and legs, why don't you lured your opponent in and surprised them with a powerful swing of your sword?"

"… I don't think that would not be fair. I wanted to fight with honesty." Lovino rejoined, his grip on the wooden pole tightened.

"Lovino, dear, there is no such thing as a '_fair_' fight, especially if your opponent wanted to kill you at any cost." The knight tried to persuade the young Italian. He goes to draw some circles on top of the yellow sand floor, just like the ones in the fencing room from yesterday. He smiled at his handy work once the circles are completed; upturn his head forth, only to come in contact with Lovino's amber eyes in him.

"…But…" The boy begins hesitantly, unsure of his words. "… This is why you are here. Teach me how to be strong, knight." He asserted; locking his fiery eyes, genuinely, with the knight's composed emerald ones. He bites his lips. Even though he is a weakling, he wanted to fight honorably, regardless of whom is his opponent.

After sometime of thinking, the knight agreed. "Alright, I will do so as you wished, but, I will not go easy on you."

"Bring it on, Spaniard." Lovino challenged, smirking so, distancing himself away from the man, and raises his wooden branch at him.

"Sure thing, darling." The knight answered easily, his own wooden branch rises upward along with his moving hands.

Lovino taken some time to look at the knight clearly; and then shifts his eyes down to the circles between himself and the taller man. What does he meant by the circle acting as an "eye"? Does that mean that Lovino had to stand in it in order to get an accurate attack? Or it is a point of measurement? But, doesn't that mean that he is also at an disadvantage if he stands around it?... This is so confusing. Lovino decided to follow his instinct and step forth to stand on the line. And it is true, when the knight swing his sword at him; Lovino could somehow see the incoming blow to his left. He glance downward, and taken notice that his right foot steps out of the circle's line to dodge the knight's assault. The knight swipes his sword across to Lovino's right for a second time. And again, Lovino's left foot is now inside the circle. On the third blow, since the boy was distracted by the circle underneath his shadow, he was inflicted by the knight's quick movement.

There was a _'click' _inside the Italian's head. The circles are there to help him memorizing and recognizing his own weakness. What it meant is that, in order to defense; Lovino should move his body and his sword into the coming assault to reduce the impact, and if he wanted to attack, he should move right alongside or into the opponent's movement. Ah, this is quite easy actually… Fencing is actually a dance of courage, nothing more or less. In the next few swings coming from the knight's, Lovino effortlessly escape his blows, forming a pattern inside his head. _Alright… this is where he will attack from the right, on the left hip._ Lovino's body turns over to his left slightly and then moves his right foot forth. _Yes!_ He did it! Now, the next attack should be on the same spot, considering how this knight loves to trick him. Aha! Right again. The knight swings his sword downward on the same exact spot that Lovino predicted beforehand; the boy in return, simply get out to the right, again, into the knight's. At this time around, the two manage to make a full walkway around the drawn circle, with Lovino predicting the knight's movement and dodge them; and the knight just dance along. The knight smiled mischievously._ So he figured it out._ Let's pick up the pace then.

The knight makes a complete circle around Lovino's body. He was quick on his feet. So fast, too. Lovino's body jerked for a moment there, unable to follow the knight's track as his left side was gently caress, not by the hard wooden pole, but by the knight's waltzing fingers. He tries to knock the man's hand away using the back of his own wooden cane. The knight's hand magically disappears as Lovino's skin came in contact with his own cane. _What the hell?_ His right side was no difference; he could feel the knight's hands on his stomach. Lovino flip his wooden staff backward, but the knight was nowhere seen. He could hear footsteps on top of the soft sand, _to his left._ Lovino turns to block the knight's attack, but it was too late as he was pushed out of the drawn circle. His heart beat picks up, the circle, his guide, his _'eye'_, is gone… Lovino persists, his stubbornness insisted to stay still, willing his body to stand and continue to block the knight's swift and fast swings on his wooden cane. After a moment of defending, Lovino found himself to be cornered against a bed of boulders. He could feel the coldness coming off of the rock behind his back. _No…_ His cane was knock away, straightforwardly, by the knight's. _Ouch…_ He could feel blisters begin forming in his hands, as he exhausts his body beyond his limit. _Damn it._

"Alright. I give up." Lovino surrenders; no use to keep fight on if his weapon is gone. _Huh?_ He could feel his hands against the cold and hard surface of the hard boulder behind him. There are prisons of fingers around both of his wrists. Lovino tilts his head up to look at the knight… actually; he is unpleasantly close for his liking. _Too close._

"So _cute_." The knight whispered as his lips captures Lovino's softly. He smiled into the kiss, savoring the taste of his Italian's lover. Lovino felt like his heart could leap out of his chest any second now as his face is scarlet cherry from just his lips being touched by the knight's. All of the colors around him suddenly sucked dry, turning into greys, as the only color remained is the knight's emerald eyes on him.

After the knight parted away from Lovino, there was a look of shock mixed with horrified banquets over the boy's face. Apprehension of his reality came back colliding down on to him._ "What the hell…?!"_ The Italian shrieked under his breath, he glances at the crack in between the boulders to his right to see if Grandpa Roma and Feliciano are watching. _Nah…_ They are way too absorbed in their stupid arts to notice Lovino's distressful situation. Lovino signed deeply, actually feeling somewhat dumbfounded over a kiss. This is nothing unusual. _Stupid knight. _On the other end, the knight only laughs and ruffled his adorable Lovino's brunette hair. Lovino pouted, the red on his face excavated further, if that is a possibility that is.

After a while passes, noon came, their intimate kiss was forgotten about as Grandpa Roma and Feliciano set up a fire to grill the fish the knight had caught. Grandpa Roma would laughs, loudly, and boast about how the ladies used to flocked all over him when he was single and an upright knight that he is in Sicily. Feliciano would excitedly show the knight the paintings he done this morning. The knight would smile and laugh with Grandpa Roma and Feliciano, agreeing to whatever nonsense they sprouted from their mouths. Lovino would sat in one spot, listening, secretly afraid that he will ruined the peaceful moment by just having his potty mouth opens.

Toward the end of noon, when the sun slowly vanishes into the horizon's line, Lovino sat on the beach's sand, watching the scene before him. Grandpa Roma and Feliciano are busily packing their luggage in the knight's beach home, waiting for the butler and his carriage to pick them up. The knight is nowhere to be seen once again. Lovino's face grimace, and takes in a deep inhale of the cool air around him. This is the spot where he confessed his love to the girl with the golden hair. _Also, where he sat, alone, staring at the sun set._ He tilted his head to the spot next to him. _Empty._ His frown, protracted. He begins fidgeting in his seat, sadness begins to creep up on him… Then, footsteps could be heard, and it was close too.

"… Lovino, it is late, let us go back home." Lovino heard the knight's voice behind him.

He turns his head back, his amber eyes comes in contact with the knight's emerald ones, and reply softly, "… Alright…" Lovino's lithe body shot up gently off of the soft bed of sand and then he dusts off the yellow grains on his bottom. He begins trailing after the knight's imprinted footsteps in the sand. The boy's back arched slightly; he wrapped his arms around his person for protection from the wind, his face sulk nonchalantly. His shadow underneath him seemed so long, away from the knight. Suddenly, the knight quickly flips over and kisses him on the cheek, hard, laughs, and then run toward his carriage. Lovino blushed and chase after him, wanting to throw a punch or two at the dumb knight. Oh, Grandpa Roma and Feliciano are sleeping as they are too tired from their long morning… he should stay quiet for now. After the knight and Lovino got inside of the carriage, the butler would pat his stallion softly, signaling his animal friend to take off. Along the way back to the knight's mansion, they dropped Grandpa Roma and Feliciano off to their house. The knight and his butler help unload the luggage back inside the grandfather's home. It is time for the knight to go back to his mansion.

"Farewell, Feliciano and Sir Roma, I bit you all an early good night." The knight smiled at them and bows; he begins to walk back to the carriage outside of the front gate. The orange sky in the distant turn's red, it is a bit late, but it is alright. The knight has all the time in the world after all.

Grandpa Roma and the young brother stands by the gate to watch the knight and Lovino took off. "Good bye, Mister Antonio! Today was a really fun day, and I wish you would come back to visit us again soon!" Feliciano stated, waving his hands madly at the knight.

"Lovino! Don't forget to look after Antonio! He is your master after all, alright, dear?" The grandfather yelled at Lovino; who was having trouble getting inside the carriage because it is a bit dark now.

"Yes, yes, I know." Lovino replied, waving back at them and then proceed to settled himself down to a seat near the window. Heracles stands by the door the entire time and then closes it as his master and Lovino finally gets inside. He walks up to the front and get on his stallion, and wave at Feliciano and Grandpa Roma one last time. With a pat of his feet, the stallion took off, taking the carriage connected to his seat with him, toward the knight's mansion.

After Lovino and the knight arrive at the mansion, it is time for them to get back into their usual roles. The knight, as the returning master of the mansion, would dismiss his servants for the moment at hand as he did not need anything today. Lovino would quietly follows the knight, waiting for the time when he would needed help because, after all of this time, he is a servant of the Carriedo's household, just like everybody else. In the end, the knight never once told Lovino what to do, but, the one thing that he always seemed to request, and that is for the young Italian to sleep next to him...

Lovino opens his eyes; the nightlight's stand on top of the drawer next to him still had a last candle lighted with a dot of fire. He was cold, as he was having the heat off of the knight's body next to him, gone. _Where is he anyway? _There is cold gust of wind from behind him; he shifts his body to his back. The large glass window was slightly peak opened. Lovino slowly lifts his own body up and yawned, then, he pushes the blanket off of him, and limply flung his legs over the edge of the bed. He stretched his rigid body and from that point walks over to the window to close it, since it was distracting him, Lovino like his security during his sleep. As soon as the Italian come nearer and nearer, behind the glass window, in the far, far, away corner of the balcony, stood the knight. _There he is._ Lovino parts the window open soundlessly, and ambled toward the knight.

"… Hey…" Lovino asked, having coming close enough for hearing range, tiny dots of goose bumps slowly forms on his body. "What are you doing out here?"

The knight turned over, his emerald eyes, even though there weren't any wet droplet of tears in them, Lovino could tell that he was deeply overwhelmed, of shown hurt, of delicacy, of fragility… _What the hell…?_ The knight probably did not notice his current state now, so Lovino will keep things to himself for the time being. Lovino, himself, is really bad at comforting people.

"I was star gazing. It is a divine night tonight, darling." The knight answered, imposing a stiff smile at the younger male. "… You should go back inside, Lovino, it is very cold here and I do not want to make you sick."

"… What is wrong, knight?" _Because, you looked like you are going to cry... Yup, he had done it. Damn it._ Lovino inquired, making eye contact with the Spanish man.

The knight approach the boy, and then stokes his head softly and says, "Ahh… it is nothing, darling."

"Tell me." Lovino pressed on. Now, he could not possibly go back to sleep with eyes like that on him.

"I am afraid I will bore with the insignificant things that are in my head right now." The knight responded, then, removes his hand away from Lovino's soft hair.

"I'm up for it." The Italian boy commented.

The knight paused. It looked like he was taking some time thinking, recollecting; hesitation shown in his gentle green eyes, his chest and shoulder tightened. He then smiles softly, finally reaching a conclusion of his own. "…Alright. Come here and watch the moon with me, Lovino, she is a beauty."

Lovino complied and then walks over to the marble rail lining against the balcony. He places his hands on the stone handrail, looks up, only to have the bright moon on his eyes. _It is very beautiful, indeed._ He turns over, the knight is also beholding at the white moon overhead. "What is on your mind, knight?" Lovino whispered, afraid to ruin the serene night.

The knight chances his face over, looking at the young boy with quiet green eyes. "… I remember, of a story that I have read, from many, many years ago… there is man; a wanderer, he would roam all over the world, walked over sunless lands, hiked through countless terrains of mountains, and sailed through the Seven Seas, without a purpose, without a resolution, without a home. He did not know what to do but harm others around him because he lived his life in compliance with what the devil sitting on his left shoulder told him to; his right shoulder is long gone the angel of goodness, instead of doing what he wanted, of what he gives him light, of what he loves… '_What is my contribution to the world? What is my resolution for living? When will I be truly welcome to write songs to greet tomorrow? _' He would often asked himself as he looked at the immense worlds before him sullied in darkness by his own hands. The buds of plants around him started to parts their petals, outshining his tyranny on them; evil and wickedness will always be overcome by good and virtue, they would blossom beautifully into grown flowers, and he would forever be an unloved stem as he has yet given a chance to open his own petals. Over time, because of being alone and shunned by everyone, a conceiver of evil, he was then, slowly withered away, his leaves were lifeless gray instead of sunny emerald, gasping for a final breath on his empty bed, as no one is there to give love to an ugly bud of a flower like him."

Lovino tilted his head to the side and make a face. _So, he is sad because of that? _"What a strange story… knight, there is no need to get emotional over it; you are such a foolish man. Instead of pitying him and his story, you should live your life to the fullest for the wanderer, since he is unable to fulfill his hope and vision."

The knight took some time absorbing in of what the Italian had just told him. And then, brilliant smiles flourished on his lips, his eyes, are in lively greens once again. "You are a wise boy, Lovino."

Lovino shrugged off his comment and goes to look at the moon on top of him and the knight. "It is not a sign of intelligent, as it was just common sense…"

"Yes, you are right." The knight replied, again, joining in with Lovino watching the shy, white moon above.

After some time of looking at the silver moon, the Italian boy cocked his head to face the knight and tells him, "Let's go back to sleep, I am exhausted, unlike you, a child of the sun, who had way too much time on his hands to worry about folklores and fairytales."

"Sure. Let us go back inside, then." The knight laughs and then went back inside his chamber alongside with the young boy.

After the knight settled his body on top of the bed, Lovino made sure to tuck him in properly. Lovino felt bad, _somehow_. He had no idea. The candle in the holder next to his side of the bed is almost gone by now. Lovino sooth out the knight's messy dark auburn hair to the side, now that he had a closer look, the knight looked awfully tired. _Now, how did that one song that the knight always sing of goes again? _Lovino blushed, feeling somewhat embarrassed about what he is going to do next… but the knight look so down and gloomy, so different from his usual cheery self, it is the least that he could do. The boy opens his mouth and begins to sing, "… If you love me, if sighs… Sol for me, gentle shepherd… I dolor de 'your martyrs. I delight of your love… something about insole… or Riamar…"

The knight chuckled softly, and corrects Lovino's strange lyrics with, "… But if you think insole… I owe you Riamar, Pastorello, you are subject…" Ah, yes, yes, Lovino could recall the whole chorus now. This song is just too difficult for a normal human being to remember. "Easily t'ingannar… Beautiful purple rose, today Silvia choose… Under the guise of the plug, Doman then despise… But the men on board, for me it does not follow… Not because I like the lily..." The knight's eyes are now clouded with sleep. He looks just like a child. _Silly knight._

Lovino finish off the song, softly, "… The other flowers sprezzerò…." After ensuring that no part of the knight's would be visible to the cold air, the Italian situated himself into his side of the bed. _Finally, some good, old sleep._ The burning candle next to Lovino side of the bed was burnt all the way down to the base, and then, the flickering flame slowly fades away. His amber eyes felt terribly heavy.

"Goodnight, Lovino." The knight stated next to him, softly, as his emerald eyes slowly felt into slumber land with a blank mind.

"Goodnight…" Answered Lovino, and then he would unobtrusively whispers, so small, a hushed.

"_Antonio."_

* * *

_**Sources**_:

History of the Crow - Siva Purana, Pancdksara Mahatmya.


End file.
